


D.O.L.L.H.O.U.S.E.

by princesaadriella



Category: Kpop - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Angst, Baby Boy Min Yoongi, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Clothing, Cute Min Yoongi | Suga, Dom Kim Taehyung | V, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Lord Kim Taehyung, Fashion & Couture, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grumpy Min Yoongi | Suga, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, Kim Taehyung | V Is Whipped, Lace, Lace Panties, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Whipped, Min Yoongi | Suga is So Done, Sad Min Yoongi | Suga, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Spoiled Min Yoongi, Sub Min Yoongi | Suga, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Kim Taehyung, college student min yoongi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesaadriella/pseuds/princesaadriella
Summary: Yoongi doesn’t like the fact that he is delicate.His skin is made of glass, and his bones are that of paper. He is weak, fragile, and broke, on top of all of that. It also doesn't help that his dumbass roommate Hoseok just so happens to get him involved with all the wrong people.Including, infamous Drug Lord Kim Taehyung who, has his cold, bloodthirsty eyes on his new porcelain doll."It had to be done.""You killed him Taehyung.""Because he wanted what was mine andyouare mine."





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all.... 
> 
> So I was doing some spring cleaning of so many fics and I am going to start finishing them all don't worry.
> 
> And then this came about.  
> I was watching a BTS run skit and I do not know why this came to my head but I do know that it's been done before so I hope you all are along with me for the ride! (I love me a baby boy yoongi and I feel like there needs to be more fics with him as the center and being spoiled like crazy)
> 
> Expect chapters to be quiet lengthy as we get going here. Things are gonna happen fairly quickly here so please don't hesitate to ask me questions or anything. Please leave me your thoughts! I would really appreciate your thoughts and comments and kudos lol. 
> 
> Alright enough is enough. Enjoy and please let me know what you think in the comments or using the links!  
> ↓↓↓↓↓↓
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/VANTAEGIELLA)  
> [my tumblr♡](http://musicaltheatrecvrls.tumblr.com/)  
> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)

 

 

# 시작 - Beginning

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/158826235@N03/45806142351/in/dateposted-public/) 

 

Min Yoongi loved pretty things.

 

Contrary to popular belief, Yoongi was not always an asshole and no, his wardrobe did not solely consist of blacks, and hoodies and dark, drabby undertones.

He liked lace.

No, he _loved_ lace.

He loved the contrast of his pale skin, smothered beneath rose gold pinks, lustful maroons, and violent shades of red. 

Yoongi loved how delicate and soft lingerie could be, padded thick, glistening with diamonds that shone brightly, combatting with the stars in the night sky. 

He loved pretty things and in turn, he loved to _feel_ pretty.

He loved to  _feel_ pretty because he knew that Min Yoongi was anything  _but_ pretty.

His face was too round and his cheeks were too pudgy. The skin on his belly was too soft and not at all firm. His face was constantly flushed and splotchy, and his lips were nothing but a puckered pout. Pink, thin, pieces of skin that were bland, and ugly.

 

Min Yoongi was _ugly_.

 

But Min Yoongi wasn't ugly when he was clad in pink lace and threaded roses of lush,  _fierce_ fabric.

 

Min Yoongi _thrives_ in a black,  _Thrasher_ hoodie atop a flush pink lace [bralet.](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/180988478749811839/) The sensation of his pale skin tightly tucked beneath intricate floral patterns makes his heart swell and his blood course warmly and serenely through his vivid, blue veins. The clothes tickled and prodded at his skin lovingly, gently caressing his heart and whispering secrets and sharing their own pieces of gossip for Yoongi's ears only, each piece of fabric having their own story to tell.

The clothes made his porcelain skin tough as nails and his stone heart one of diamond. 

 

Min Yoongi was ugly.

 

But Min Yoongi wasn't ugly, when he was clad in lace.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A line of the cheapest, shittiest colored cars you could imagine were parked around the block of the apartment complex.

Yoongi knew that this meant Hoseok had company, and if it weren't for his dumbass of a roommate who tears through their pantry cabinet like a fucking animal, Yoongi wouldn't have had to run to the store to buy more ramen.

Thus, not being able to beat Hoseok's ass and tell him  _no,_ he did  _not_ want to deal with his obnoxious gang of thugs tonight.

He would have also found himself a good parking spot, rather than having to park across the fucking street. 

 

Yoongi gave the old man on their stoop a few of the bills that he had left over. He couldn't help the spark of joy in his chest that he felt for doing his little good deed of the day. 

One good deed that he could afford. 

Yoongi feels the clump of coins jingle in his pockets as he makes his way up the steps. He thinks back to that same, ice cold morning when their heat got shut off the night before because they had come up a bit short that month. When he had to count his remaining won from the laundry in order to see if they even had enough money for _breakfast_.

One night, Hoseok had come home, high as fuck and covered in a thin film of sweat. He reeked of gun powder and dirt, the smoke thick in his clothes as his eyes hazed over in a fog of intoxication. He handed Yoongi over a stack of frazzled, crinkled won. Hoseok didn't tell him where he got the money from. 

Yoongi didn't ask. 

He should feel filthy, having an empty belly and blood money in the pockets of his paint speckled skinny jeans.

And he would too, if it weren't for the black, lace [bodysuit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/569705421588724016/) that he was wearing underneath his sweater. 

Yoongi didn't buy it without Hoseok's permission of course but, even if his roomate had said no, would he have listened?

Probably not.

Yoongi unlocks the door, not surprised to see the familiar, brute faces of wannabe gangsters littering the apartment. Annoyance pricks at Yoongi's skin, making his nose scrunch and his forehead crease. Hoseok's head pops up from the thresholds of the sofa, a huge, beaming smile on his face.

"Hyung! Hey..." Hoseok can't bare to meet Yoongi's eyes and this right here says something. 

"Hoseok, can I talk to you... in _private?"_ Yoongi asks, his tone calm and underlined with a venomous rage. Hoseok seems to notice that a calm Yoongi is really a mad Yoongi and he nods, following him to a tiny corner of the apartment that serves as a kitchen even though there is only a rusty refrigerator and a rickety, ant infested counter. 

"What's up hyung?"

"Why the fuck are your goons in our apartment?" Yoongi grits without hesitation. He knows that they're still in ear shot of the other boys but, Yoongi honestly doesn't give a single, fucking shit.

Hoseok's eyes widen in disbelief before a small smile graces his heart shaped lips.

"Hyung, it's business."

"This isn't fucking business Hoseok. Now I told you, I don't care what you do outside of here and you know I never ask because I don't want to know what you do, but I don't like it when you bring them here." 

"Hyung—”

"I  _don't like it_ Hobi." Yoongi grits, his voice much softer and higher in tone than he would like to admit. He doesn't want to say that he's desperate but, he's pissed off and in dire of need of being _alone_ right now. He doesn't like the pressure of saving face for a bunch of assholes with guns that they don't know how to use.

Hoseok sighs. "I'm sorry hyung. I'm sorry, I _really_ am but this... this is different." Hoseok says, his voice wavering slightly. Yoongi raises a brow.

"How is this different from any of the other times? Hoseok we don't have _any money_. We barely have food in here for the _two_ of us. I don't want your fucking friends here to eat up all of our shit and—”

"Hyung, I don't have time for this right now, okay? We can talk about this later but, I need to get back with the group, okay?" Yoongi scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

"You're such a _fuckin'_ —” A kiss is placed upon his cheek as Hoseok bounds back over to the coffee table, where everyone else is gathered. Yoongi sighs, ignoring the buzz in his cheek before starting a pot of water to boil. He feels someone brush past him as the refrigerator is yanked open. Bottles clank together and Yoongi has to calm himself down before he pops a goddamn blood vessel in this bitch.

He turns around to find Kyungsoo, his hands deep in the fridge as he raids for a beer. He finds one, and it just so happens to be the last beer they have left.

Yoongi damn near pops a blood vessel anyway.

" _Yah!_ Get the fuck out of our fridge and go do what you have to do with your thug friends." Yoongi says angrily, warding Kyungsoo away from the fridge. The younger man laughs before his upper body leans in, already a bit tipsy and hungry for something more than food.

"Ah _hyung_ , you're so grumpy all the time. When are you gonna let me take you out to dinner?" Kyungsoo asks with a flirtatious smirk. Yoongi fixes him with bored gaze, one hand on his hip and the other leaning on the counter.

"When you finally get that tooth of yours fixed, and when you have enough money to buy food for the _both_ of us." Yoongi quips. Kyungsoo laughs heartily as he inches closer.

"Don't act all high and mighty hyung. We kissed before. We can do it again." Yoongi laughs bitterly.

"Yeah, when you actually had your shit together and weren't always drunk or high off your ass." Yoongi says, having to place his palms against Kyungsoo's chest to keep him from leaning over and landing them both on the floor. Kyungsoo giggles before whispering, his lips tickling the shell of Yoongi's ear. Yoongi shivers in disgust and something else that he can't name.

No Min Yoongi, you have fucking standards you little piece of shit.

"You're so _cute_ hyung."

"And you're fucking ugly. Now get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass." Kyungsoo winks at him before walking away, beer bottle in hand and... wait, is that a bag of chips too?

Goddamnit.

Yoongi can't say he's proud of his past relationships, but Kyungsoo? He takes the cake. Yoongi has no idea what the fuck he was thinking we that one. 

But the group is talking and laughing and  _nothing_ about this sounds like  _business._

Then there's a banging on the door.

It's almost comical, how everyone whips their heads in the direction of the sound. After seeing how no one makes a move to open it, Yoongi goes to open the door with a scoff. _Lazy assholes_ he thinks, before his arm is gripped tightly. He looks to see Hoseok with a pinched, fearful expression. Yoongi frowns.

" _What_ Hobi—”

"Hyung,  _don't."_ Yoongi eyes him warily, startled when there's another violent knock on the door. Everyone in the room goes still with the exception of their hands, that go straight into their pockets. Yoongi's blood runs cold when he hears the clacking of steel and the clicking of safeties being turned off. 

"H-Hoseok, who—”

The door is ripped from its hinges with a resounding  _bang._

Yoongi can't help but to yelp as his heart jumps into his throat. He runs to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. fear nearly sending his heart into cardiac arrest. He peeks his head out from the doorway as guns are swiftly drawn. Yoongi's skin freezes over, turning to ice.

Three men in crisp dark suits barge into the apartment. They don't seem to have any weapons. 

They don't look like they need them. 

The men part like the seven seas, another breaking in between them and briskly walking forward. 

The man is wearing a [black suit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/489485053248213547/) on top of a white button up. His chestnut colored hair is pushed neatly back with a thick, black headband. His almond shaped eyes are dark and filled with madness, his perfectly sculpted brows are knitted tight and his lips are contorted into a deep, terrifying scowl. His tan cheekbones catch onto the sunlight like gems, which makes no fucking sense, since there's no sunlight in the apartment.

Yoongi gulps.

This man is  _stunning._

Even so, Yoongi feels his stomach swirl into a wave of queasiness, his vision becoming blurry and his hearing swimmy. He feels sick. 

"Which one of you is Jung Hoseok." He says. It's not really a question. More of a demand. His voice is deep and rough around the edges. Yoongi's very heart drops at the sound. What's scary as hell, is the fact that this man hasn't even _flinched_ at the amount of guns pointed directly in his face. 

But once the man speaks, the same look of recognization passes on their faces. They put their weapons down and Yoongi realizes something.

They all know him.

They're all _afraid_ of him.

The man allows his eyes to wander around the apartment, landing on every single thug and brute. He doesn't seem to register Yoongi and for that, he is eternally thankful. 

But he does raise a brow.

"So no one heard me then. Okay." He quips. Yoongi can see Hoseok shiver at the center of the table. 

"I'm J-Jung Hoseok, Prince Kim." Yoongi intakes a breath of air sharply before turning to his friend who, looks like he's about to shit his pants. 

Hoseok makes his way into the living room where, this  _Prince Kim_ is standing tall, his aura untouchable with his head held high. Hoseok kneels and Yoongi is only able to hold back a snort because he's terrified out of his damn mind. Prince Kim looks down at the young man kneeling on the floor before he spares everyone else in the room a glance. 

He smirks.

"All of you, a bunch of fucking  _cowards."_ He grits before holding out his hand. One of the men beside him places a steel bat into his hands. Yoongi's eyes widen.

Fuck.

"Would you care to tell me why after running our numbers multiple times, we found that  _my_ fucking money was being taken by _your_ people?" Hoseok looks up at this, his eyes wide in fear. Genuine confusion glistens in his eyes and Yoongi feels his own eyes start to water.

"P-Prince Kim, I know of no such thing—”

"Oh but I'm sure you do. Actually, I  _know_ you do. Either that, or you were being fucking careless and allowed your men to scheme behind your back and pin the blame on you."

"Prince Kim I would never—”

"Speak again without permission and I'll have your tongue cut off and fed to you on a silver platter. Am I clear?" Hoseok audibly gulps, his hands trembling at his sides

"Yes Sir." 

Yoongi is so glad he hasn't eaten anything, or else he would have spewed it all over the floor.

Prince Kim twirls the bat around in the palm of his hand. His scowl becomes deeper as his jaw visibly clenches. 

"Have I not been generous to you? Have I not given you enough money as it is? Are you that fucking _disgusting_ enough that you feel the need to steal my money, even though I have been nothing but _kind_ to you?" Hoseok doesn't answer, not knowing if this is a real question or not. A flash of silver pierces the air before the bat smashes against Hoseok's skull. Yoongi clamps a hand over his mouth to trap in his sob. Hoseok screams before he is silenced by the click of a gun. One of Prince Kim's men has the weapon aimed right between his eyes.

Yoongi feels the bile crawling up his throat.

"I'll give you one last chance. Who, the  _fuck,_ has been taking  _my_ money from the drops that  _you_ have been in charge of?" Hoseok whimpers.

"S-Sir, I  _don't know."_ He whines. Taehyung sighs before turning his head, a bitter chuckle trickling from his lips. 

"Namjoon, just kill the man, before I do."

"Yes Prince Kim."

_"Wait!"_

The air is sucked out of the room. In it's place, a tension that can be chopped to pieces. Everyone goes silent as the men in black try to find the owner of this voice. 

Prince Kim's eyes land on Yoongi who, is now openly sobbing in the center of the room. 

Prince Kim tilts his head, his expression unreadable and his eyes black as night.

Yoongi inhales shakily. " _Don't..._ don't kill him  _please..."_ Yoongi begs. He doesn't know what else he should say, maybe something that would peak these men's interest but, his mind goes blank.

He can only think of one thing.

"I took it. I took the money. It was me." He says as loud as he can with how much his voice is trembling. Hoseok cries.

"Hyung  _no—”_ The gun is once again, steadily aimed at Hoseok before Prince Kim holds up a hand, signaling the man to put the weapon down. He hands the steel bat over to one of his other men. This one is much smaller but, just as frightening. 

Prince Kim stalks closer to Yoongi, his expression unreadable but tight as can be. He is emotionless, his face dead and his walk crisp. He stops right in front of Yoongi who, wants to shy away but, _can't_. He feels trapped in Prince Kim's gaze, his heart in his throat. Prince Kim straightens his head as his brows furrow.

"Did you now." Yoongi blinks before nodding.

"Y-Yes, yes it was me. Please, don't kill him, it wasn't him it was me."

"Hyung  _stop—”_ The tip of the bat connects with Hoseok's head once more with a sickening _thunk._ Yoongi screams.

 _"Don't hurt him!"_ Yoongi cries. "I already told you it was  _me. Please_ don't hurt him." Yoongi weeps. He feels fucking pathetic right now but, he can't bring himself to care.

All Yoongi and Hoseok have done was look out for each other. Since they were little they have been by each other's side. They have known each other since birth and were closer than blood could ever bring them. 

Yoongi couldn't let Hoseok die.

He just _couldn't._

Prince Kim eyes Yoongi up and down, feigning unimpressed and Yoongi wants to spit out a dastardly  _fuck you_ but... now probably isn't the right time. 

Prince Kim smirks.

Yoongi wants to vomit.

"You're telling me that  _you_ have been stealing from me, all this time?" Yoongi swallows before nodding once more. Prince Kim giggles.

He fucking  _giggles._

"You see, I don't believe you." The man smiles, his voice suddenly soft and, pitying. "Would you like to know why?" Yoongi is thankful that Prince Kim doesn't give him time to answer because he probably would have said  _no._ He might have even thrown a  _fuck no_ in there too. 

"I don't believe you because these low level thugs are _cowards_. They would never admit to something like this in order to save one of their own, and you don't strike me as the type of person to sell my cocaine, let alone even  _look_ at a gun."

Yoongi has nothing to say.

The funny thing is, this Prince Kim is right.

No one in the room has said a word. No one has spoken up and no one has owned up to their actions.

Even Kyungsoo who, is suddenly sober, avoids Yoongi's eyes.

Yoongi simply looks down at the floor, his stomach bubbling at the fact that he would soon have Hoseok's blood on his hands.

Dear God... what would he tell Mrs. _Jung?_

Prince Kim lets his eyes wander over Yoongi's shaken up form one more time before clucking his tongue and turning away.

"Jungkook, check his pockets for valuables. He's coming with us."

Yoongi's stomach drops to the depths of Hell. 

Said Jungkook walks over, dropping his hands into his pockets without question, without tenderness. He comes up with nothing but loose change, a phone with a cracked screen, and a packet of detergent drenched gum from the time Hoseok left it in his pants before laundry day.

Gross.

Yoongi's body feels limp as he becomes surrounded by the three men. He thinks he might pass out from the heat that encompasses his already horror-stricken body.

Prince Kim spares Hoseok one last glance.

"I want this traitor found and brought to me  _immediately,_ unless you want your friend chopped to bits and dumped into the Han river." 

Yoongi almost gags.

Hoseok is barely coherent, blood running from the wound on his head and rushing down his face, pouring into his eyes. 

"P-Prince Kim _, please_ , he didn't do this, he  _couldn't_ do this... don't take him... _don't take him from me_." Hoseok says, barely above a pained whisper. Prince Kim has the audacity to fucking  _cackle_ and Yoongi wants nothing more than to punch him in the dick.

"Collateral. That's all this is. You find the man that did this and you get your friend back,  _maybe_ in one piece." 

Yoongi can't help but to whimper. He looks at Hoseok one more time before he can no longer be seen, out of sight, like the moon light the night. 

Yoongi is trapped between the three men, barricaded by suits as he is led down the old steps of his rickety apartment and into a sleek SUV. He wants to scream,  _anything_ that will catch the attention of a bystander passing by but, something tells him that no one would even spare him a sorry glance.

Prince Kim is in the front and doesn't even bother to look at Yoongi as he sits in the passenger seat. One of them men has on a pair of glasses and Yoongi can't seem remember to his name. His brain isn't even _functioning_ now, disbelief clouding his judgement because holy _shit_ this is really happening to him.

Yoongi is really being kidnapped.

The man with the glasses puts the car in drive. Yoongi sniffles, wiping his nose as the other two men sit on either side of him. He can hear Prince Kim scoff before a napkin is tossed into his lap.

"Blow your nose and stop crying. This was _your_ choice, nobody else's." He says. Yoongi has always had a bad temper, and he has so much to say too but, the words die in his throat as quickly as they are conjured, in fear of being cut into pieces and tossed into the Han river like he was told. 

So instead, Yoongi just wipes his face and the rest of the oncoming tears that pour from his eyes. His pudgy cheeks are swollen and red. He admires the napkin, pretty penmanship having written a tiny  _k.t._ on the corner of the cloth. The fabric has a linen of familiar threading, surrounding the center square of it. 

Yoongi rubs his fingers along the intricate patterns.

 

_Lace._


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi takes a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and HAPPY TAEGI WEEK!
> 
> Although I am not too happy with how this chapter turned out, I am so excited to be posting this chapter up for the first day of Taegi week. Also, happy late thanksgiving and I hope you all had a wonderful time with your families! Please check out my twitter to see everything else I have planned in my threads! (There is a specific thread for Taegi week!)
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/bangtanadriella)  
> [my tumblr♡](http://musicaltheatrecvrls.tumblr.com/)  
> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)

 

# 홈 - Home

Yoongi wished that he could sleep but it was damn near _impossible_ with the paralyzing fear pulsing through his veins. He was pressed tightly in between the two men in suits, one of them which, had taken his phone and has probably discarded it somewhere, someplace Yoongi will never see it again.

The car ride had been awkwardly silent with Prince Kim murmuring things to the driver with the glasses. Kim’s voice was velvety and even somewhat sweet, like hot chocolate on a cold afternoon. It was the type of voice you heard narrating those dramatic audio books perhaps. And Yoongi would have _loved_ to listen to such a voice, well, if the owner of that voice weren't his kidnapper and future murderer in the flesh.

Yoongi recognizes that they are a while away from him and Hoseok's home, which only makes his stomach churn even more with every block that passes. The further they are from safety, the harder it will be to escape. Hours pass before the street lights come on and the flow and sound of the lively city begin to pierce the Seoul night sky. It was as if the daytime air was thick and blocking out the sounds of the world. 

Seoul is a lot more alive in the night time.

And Yoongi was going to miss it before he died.

They pull into a barren alleyway, the car's tires crunching the gravel and making the car sway unevenly. Yoongi's tongue feels thick in his mouth as the car makes a slight turn. No one seems to be in sight for miles around, and this makes a sense of unease bubble in Yoongi's stomach, the feeling slowly morphing into something akin to nausea. 

Yoongi was going to die and there was no way for him to call for help.

Oh he is  _so_ gonna haunt Hoseok as a ghost when he dies.

The car stops abruptly and the men get out of the car. Yoongi's breaths come out rushed and ragged as one of the men, the one who took his phone, stands outside of the door with a pointed look, waiting for him to climb out. Yoongi does so while avoiding his gaze. The man or rather, the  _boy_ looks fairly young with his hooked nose and big doe eyes. He is very pretty and it makes Yoongi wonder just how high his actual body count is. It can't be  _that_ high. 

Can it? 

The boy stands behind him as he follows everyone into an unlit corridor. The pathway to where they are going is dark and devoid of life and Yoongi thinks that this is where he goes. This is where they off him and dump his body, but not before chopping him into bits.

He can't forget the part about them chopping him into bits. It's the most important part. 

They arrive at a large steel door when the man with the glasses puts in some kind of complicated number code into a panel. The keypad is lit underneath with a neon, blood red light. The lock clicks and the men file inside with Yoongi tucked tightly in between them. 

The room inside is a matted black, no gloss and no sheen. The floor is so clean that Yoongi can see his reflection staring grimly back at him. They take an elevator up to the top floor and with each  _ding_ of the elevator, Yoongi's stomach lurches beyond his control. 

When the door slides open, Yoongi is greeted by a beautiful, luxurious high rise apartment, the entire city of Seoul staring up at them with pondering, needy eyes. One would powerful up here, standing so high above such filth, such crime. Yoongi understands the pretense, to be truthful. 

The main floor is extravagant. Glass tables are home to expensive looking décor that in all honesty, don't match the full set of things but, look nice either way. Ginormous paintings align the walls in the most alluring of ways. If Yoongi had the time and, if his circumstances were well suited for such a thing, he would inspect each painting closer, to try and get the message. Try and get the  _point._

Who knew that Yoongi's killer was an art collector. 

"Jungkook, take him to one of the rooms down the hall." 

"Yes Prince Kim." The boy in the suit gives Yoongi another pointed look and the brunette immediately tenses up. He looks to Prince Kim who has taken off his coat and is handing it to the man wearing the glasses.

"Are... are you going to kill me now?" Yoongi asks, his voice trembling uncontrollably. Honestly, if he was to die, they had better do it now and get it over with. He is about to piss his pants and honestly, he would rather not while he has _some_ shred of his dignity intact. 

Prince Kim fixes him with another look that he can't decipher. It's the same look that he was given back at the apartment when, he had first begged his men not to kill Hoseok. 

If only Yoongi had gotten to kill Hoseok first, then maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. 

Prince Kim's eyes flit over Yoongi's fearful and chubby features before he snorts, his eyes becoming hooded and dark like onyx. 

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have waited till now to do it." He says, his voice even and thick. Yoongi's breath hitches once the man steps forward. Yoongi gets a whiff of cedar wood and vanilla, a hint of cinnamon encircling him and lulling him into a much calmer state, even if he was damn near on his death bed. 

"I would have killed you in front of your friend and the rest of his men, to show them that I make no idle threats. Now, I am a man of my word. If your friend can tell me who has been cutting into my profit, then he can have you back, no harm done, unless, he takes too long. In that case, we have many options. In my opinion, your friend is a fool. He knows he's been taking my money and the fact that he would allow your life to be at risk instead of his, just  _proves_ how selfish he is. You should have picked better company to keep." At this, Yoongi's blood begins to boil. Anger boils in his blood, the pressure in his chest making it hard to breathe. This man knows not one  _fucking_ thing about Hoseok, and it would do him good to keep his mouth  _shut._

Before Yoongi says something he regrets. 

"Hobi would  _never_ do something like this. I remember when he first started working for you and your group of thugs and he has done  _nothing_ but take care of me _and_ him. He is a good person and you had no right to hurt him like that." 

The entire room freezes, the men in suits tensing up at Yoongi's sudden outburst. Prince Kim's eyes flash with something devious, something  _terrifying._ His brows become knitted and his jaw tightens at its hinge. 

He takes a brisk step forward.

"He might not deserve it, but you do, right?" Yoongi's face scrunches in confusion.

"What? I didn't, I  _mean—”_

"I suggest if you want to keep that head of yours on your shoulders, that you stop talking. That is, unless you want your friend  _Hobi,_ to receive your head in a box on his front stoop." 

Yoongi gulps thickly before inhaling a shaky breath. Prince Kim takes another challenging step forward.

"I am good to those who work for me, much kinder than I  _should_ be. So, when I get word that one of my people is stealing from me, I have the right to slit their throats and put bullets into their brains now  _you,_ decided to take the fall for stealing my money even though you are capable of doing no such thing and  _you,_ must pay the price.  _Jungkook."_ Prince Kim whips his head toward the black haired boy in the suit. Yoongi swallows down his bile. "Take our new friend to his room,  _now."_ Prince Kim grits before retreating to another unknown section of the complex. Yoongi feels everything inside of him, shrivel up into _nothing_. His heart has dried out, crumpled by the fear of what was to come. 

 

Hoseok better find this man or else, Yoongi will ask to shoot his roommate himself.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yoongi's mother did not raise no weak bitch.

No she did not. 

So no, Yoongi was not going to sit here on this bed and cry himself to sleep and no, Yoongi was sure as hell  _not_ to beg these men for mercy,  _or_ food. Regardless of how loud his stomach was grumbling, or how lightheaded and nauseous he felt, due to the fact that he was in a dimly lit room with nothing but grays, and tans, and whites. The only pop of color in sight has to do with the maroon sheet on his mattress, lined with golden thread and funny little patterns that Yoongi can’t help but to trace the pads of his fingertips against.

There is a knock on the door and Yoongi jumps, his heart lodging in his throat. 

“C-Come in.” He beckons, having no fucking idea as to why someone would knock when they could just barge in.

His life is in these men’s hands, fyi.

The door creaks open and in comes the boy with the bright doe eyes and childish demeanor. _Jungkook_ , Yoongi thinks. 

“Prince Kim would like to offer you dinner, that is, if you’re hungry.” He says. Yoongi swallows.

"I'm not hungry." Jungkook's brows furrow, his eyes suddenly calculating and cold. Yoongi seems to get the message. ”Do I actually have a choice?” He asks. Jungkook sort of blinks before exhaling deeply, his lips squeezing into a thin line.

Yoongi is going to take that as a _no_ , then. 

Yoongi stands from the bed, fiddling with the bottom of his hoodie and biting his pouty lip. He knows he probably looks like shit. Hell, he _feels_ like shit. He just wants to take a nice, warm shower, rinse the grime from his skin and dress himself in _his_ clothes, _his_ lace, safe and secure. 

He wishes to feel safe and secure, instead of... this.

Anything but _this_.

Yoongi is led down the hallway and through an arc that separates the living room from the dining hall. A grand table greets Yoongi as Jungkook rounds him and suddenly leaves. Yoongi's body tenses as women and men in black and white uniforms charge into the room with large silver platters in hands. Yoongi doesn't know what to do with himself. He picks at his nails, his fingers trembling and his gut aching at the sense of uneasiness. 

He doesn't belong here, that much is for certain but, it seems that no one pays him any mind as they place the food on the table in an orderly fashion. Their eyes are low and their movements are stiff as they set the dining table. They have an unspoken order of things. Not one person stutters in their actions and not one person needs any sort of clarification. They all know their place here. 

Yoongi does not. 

Without warning, steps can be heard from down the hall, clicking in the distance and causing every butler and maid to stop what they are doing. Luckily, the setting of the table seems to be complete. 

Even so, everyone stands at attention, including Yoongi. 

Prince Kim enters the room, his brows seeming to be permanently stitched together tightly, his jaw set and clean, as if it could cut diamonds. The man makes to sit at the head of the table, placing the red napkin into his lap as his eyes wander the table. He dismisses the staff with the wave of his hand. Yoongi is still standing on the opposite side of the table. His stomach is in knots and he finds it hard to catch his breath, even though he has done nothing but stand in the same spot for about fifteen minutes. 

Prince Kim looks up, locking eyes with him.

"Sit." Is all he says. Yoongi finds himself obeying without a single word. Yoongi inhales shakily as Prince Kim begins serving himself. Yoongi doesn't move an inch. His hands are placed in his lap, out of view of the drug lord, and his heart is pounding so loud that Yoongi feels lightheaded from the rapid pace of the blood rushing through his veins. Prince Kim's silverware clacks as he piles food onto his plate. It takes him some time before he realizes that Yoongi hasn't moved a muscle. 

He raises a perfectly, arched brow. 

"Eat." He says, and Yoongi is fucking tired of being given orders as if he's some kind of dog.

"I'm... I'm not hungry." 

 _"Eat."_ Prince Kim grits. Yoongi's breath hitches. Prince Kim doesn't leave any extra room for discussion and it makes Yoongi feel like way less than what he actually is. 

Still, it hurts to remain strong for far too long. 

"I  _can't."_

At this, Prince Kim squints as he tilts his head to the side.

"You can't." He repeats, his eyes squinted as if he's actually trying to understand what the hell is going on with the boy across the table from him.

Yoongi nods shakily.

"I don't, I don't feel good." Yoongi murmurs. His tongue feels lazy in his mouth, slow and thick and heavy behind his teeth. The man on the opposite side of the table allows his jaw to swivel. 

"And why is that?" He asks as his eyes return to his food. Yoongi's throat tightens. 

"Because I'm afraid you're going to kill me." Prince Kim snorts.

"I already told you that if I wanted you dead I would have done it the moment you spoke out of turn." Yoongi's chair squeaks as he scoots it to the side nervously.

Prince Kim has quite some nerve.

"I was just trying to save my friend."

"And look where that got you."

"You were going to  _shoot_ him."

"He's been stealing from me."

"Hoseok would  _never_ do that."

"And how do you know this?"

" _Because I love him._ " Yoongi rushes out, his eyes already watering and his chest lit with a dull flame of hurt and pain. "I love him and I trust him. He's never hurt me and I know he never would. He would never put me in danger and he is  _going_ to find whoever took your fucking money because he wouldn't do that. He isn't a thief and he isn't a liar." Yoongi admits, a few tears slipping from his eyes. The truth hurts. It's never easy, and it burns a hole through Yoongi's heart because he knows that Hoseok never felt the same. 

He never  _will_ feel the same. 

Every person that Yoongi has been with, he was never proud because he would always try to find the little bit of  _Hoseok_ within them so that he could be sated. So that he could be  _happy._

But it was never enough. 

Prince Kim's silverware clinks against his plate as he drops it to the table. His gaze is set on the college student in front of him, his orbs foggy with skepticism and disarray. He hums as he bites the inside of his cheek. He seems to be looking just past Yoongi, as if his eyes have settled on something that the other can't see. 

The Prince sighs.

"You can go." 

Yoongi releases a breath, a wave of vehemence flooding his senses and making him feel ill with something that he can't name. 

Yoongi doesn't need to hear another word as he stands up from his seat, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor. 

Once he is out of sight, Yoongi makes a beeline to his room, the pace of his heart blistering. 

 

Prince Kim's eyes are so, sad. 

Indescribably sad.

 

And Yoongi wishes he could give a shit.

 

And as Yoongi lies in the bed that does not belong to him, he looks out of the window, greeted by the stars that seem to mock him as he weeps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. Please leave me your thoughts as I would love to hear what you think so far as the story progresses!
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	3. Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi needs to be more careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taegi week ended and now I'm sad... :(
> 
> Anyway! I'm a lot happier with this chapter and I hope you are too. 
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> Enjoy and please leave me your thoughts and a kudos if you can! Much love. 
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# 보물 - Treasure

Time is endless in this makeshift prison of Yoongi's.

The air in the room has grown musty, and there is no clue as to how many hours, or even days, have gone by. Yoongi can guess maybe... three? He has no fucking clue, and the only reason why he says three is because, well, he has been offered nine meals to which he has declined. It's gotten to the point where the Jungkook boy doesn't even come by anymore. The tray of food is simply placed by his door and the only reason why he knows it's there, is because the mouthwatering scent wafts through the crease in the door whenever the person who leaves the tray walks away. 

Yoongi is fucking starving.

Even so, he is not giving these thugs the satisfaction of seeing him beg, or gravel for _shit_. 

The beams of light through the blinds begin to dissipate as night treads closer and closer. Yoongi's growling stomach is the only sound that fills the quiet, making his body coil up in pain as he pulls the covers in tighter around him. At this rate, he can honestly forget about dying at the hands of a gun or blade. He's going to die of starvation and at this point, Yoongi doesn't really know if he cares. 

 _Fuck_ he wants to kill Hoseok so bad. 

There is an unexpected knock on the door and Yoongi would have jumped at the sound if he wasn't so lightheaded and weak. Not to mention that the hunger pains are really starting to make him sick, and puking on an empty stomach doesn’t sound all too appealing.

He doesn't bother saying anything in response to the knock, as everyone (Jungkook), who knocks has proven to just come in anyway, without needing any sort of confirmation. 

"Hello?" Jungkook calls out and Yoongi emits a guttural groan.

 _"What?"_ He says, barely above a harsh, whisper. The boy clears his throat. 

"Prince asks that you wash up. It smells bad in here." He says damn near sheepishly, as if he would rather spare Yoongi's nonexistent feelings. As if he actually  _fucking_ cared.

Yoongi scoffs. "Oh, _does_ he now?" Yoongi is pretty sure the boy nods even though he can't see him, his head almost buried under the covers. 

"Yes." 

"Well it's not my fucking fault that he has me trapped in here. He doesn't have to come in here, and neither do you. Just let me die in fucking peace." Yoongi grumbles, his stomach aching so bad that he has to claw at his skin to distract his mind from the more intense pain. 

Yoongi grunts, tossing over and burying himself deeper into the covers. He can't help but to whimper as the torment within him grows stronger and stronger. 

Yoongi wishes he were dead.

"You sound like you're in pain... are you hurt? Sick?" The boy asks. Yoongi sucks in a harsh breath. 

"N-No I'm fucking  _peachy."_ He grits between locked teeth. He hears Jungkook sigh.

"Prince would like you to wash up, please. Afterwards, you can eat. I know you're starving. Every time I come by your food has gone rotten." He says. Yoongi almost gags at the mention of spoiled food. Jungkook breathes out a heady sigh upon hearing the strangled sound. 

"Don't do this. It's much more painful." He asks. Yoongi grits his clenched teeth. 

"Like... like you fucking  _know_ how painful it is..." Yoongi retorts. He's sure this quote unquote _"thug"_ has never seen the likes of which Yoongi has. Yoongi knows what it feels like to starve. This isn't the first time, and he's pretty sure it won't be the last.

That is, if he can get out of this alive.

But even if he could, even if Yoongi  _could_ survive this, does he really want to? Because right now, the answer is looking like a  _no._

Jungkook speech falters, the breath he takes is subtle and quiet, as if there is something on the tip of his tongue that he is just aching to get off of his chest. He doesn't, and he sighs once more, as if he is somehow disappointed in Yoongi's actions, which honestly pisses Yoongi off even more.

Yoongi believes in the black and the white. He believes that things are clean cut, and if you are a horrible person, then that's the end of it. The end all be all is that in the end, you're going to get what's coming to you because you are terrible, inside and out. It's different, even when you're good, because no matter how good you are, you still seem to face the same trials and tribulations in life, perhaps even worse. 

Yoongi likes it when people are mean. He likes it when people are mean and they do everything in their power to make sure people  _know_ that they are mean. 

It's when people are nice on the outside and malicious on the inside, that things get dicey. 

"The Prince doesn't like to kill unless he  _really_ has to. Please, do us both a favor and just... do as he says." Jungkook damn near begs. A brisk cry escapes rips from Yoongi's throat as he tries to stand from the bed. 

 _There_ it is.  _That_ is what Yoongi has been waiting for. 

Jungkook isn't doing this because he cares. He's doing this because he'll probably be punished if  _Prince Kim_ doesn't get his way. 

Of- _fucking-_ course. 

Yoongi bypasses Jungkook harshly, his sweaty, sticky clothes hanging loosely from his even paler, thin frame. His skin clings to his bones as if its the last thing it can do, and the lonely stomach acid within Yoongi's body sloshes as he makes his way to what he assumes is the bathroom. Jungkook didn't really tell him where to go and Yoongi doesn't want to be near the boy anymore.

He does kind of smell bad. 

Yoongi shuts the door, the pearl white of the walls and bathroom tiles almost blinding his dark, oblique eyes. The décor is ivory colored and laced with gold, the sink and mirrors framed and outlined with a pretty, amethyst color, the kind of bathroom that Yoongi has only ever seen in his dreams. 

Yoongi was always too bougie for his kind of lifestyle. 

He undresses himself slowly, his bones creaking and his limbs lethargic and poisoned with heaviness. His eyes catch his own in the mirror, his cheeks a bit more hollow than usual and his eyes almost sunken, dark circles weighing down the skin beneath his orbs. 

He looks dead. 

How he wishes it were true. 

Yoongi removes the lace bodysuit that is embedded to his skin with a thin film of sweat. It has collected nothing but dirt and grime within the intricate fabric, and with a heavy heart, he tosses it to the side, knowing that it's probably run its course. He'll have to die without it and he is nowhere  _near_ being okay with that. 

Yoongi places his cold feet into the tub, turning the dial of the shower as much as he can. The shower is ridiculously fancy and with Yoongi's unclear sense of direction, he has no idea what to do. He doesn't know which direction is hot or cold, he honestly doesn't give a fuck. He just needs to feel, something _, anything_ but this rancid, dark, foreboding feeling in his gut that makes him hope for the ground to swallow him up whole, making his shame and humiliation disappear along with him. 

Apparently, turning the diamond knob to the left exudes hot water from the shower head, and Yoongi is too weak to move, nor really care. 

The steaming hot water pelts at Yoongi's skin, leaving it red, and raw. Yoongi's hand trembles as he reaches for the soap, the water and suds rinsing away the filth that once rested there. Steam infiltrates Yoongi's vision as he becomes even more lightheaded, the heat from the water becoming all too much and making it hard to breathe. The mist is sticky as it invades his senses, clogging up his pores and nose and  _throat._

He starts to lose feelings in his legs and feet before an inky black, cloud of smoke creeps up from the corners of his eyes. His hearing is swimmy and his sight is hazy. 

 

The world turns to nothing. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Yoongi feels when he comes to is the light, cool air that grazes his now cleanly, flushed skin. 

He feels the weight of warm, lilac smelling sheets, pooled at his waist and keeping him safe. Something tight and soft encases his body, beneath a flowing cloth that lets him breath restfully. There is a dull ache at the top of his head and the world is sort of spinning as he tries to steady his focus on something in the room. 

He groans, tossing over before placing the palms of his hands on the mattress of the bed and pushing himself upward. His lashes are a bit crusted as he blinks away the flecks of dried yuck. He pops his lips and rubs at his eyes, the smell of something sweet, and spicy filling the air.

His stomach grumbles. 

 

"You’re lucky Jungkook heard the sound of your head hitting the tub.” Yoongi's body startles. He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of that deep, velvet clad voice. He turns his head, now staring across from Prince Kim who, is sitting at a desk, his chin resting on his knuckles and his elbows planted firmly on the desk, staring inquisitively at the young man on the bed. 

"When we came to get you, the water was boiling hot.” He says darkly, as if he's scolding Yoongi. 

Yoongi scoffs. "I didn’t know how to work your fucking shower.” He responds, his eyes on the sheets that crinkle by his small feet. He is practically drowning in the oversized shirt that doesn't belong to him, and he doesn't want to know how he even got it on. His pale, thin legs contrast with the thick, saturation of the maroon sheets around him. He can't help but to feel somewhat exposed, clad in only a large shirt that hangs from his frame and stops mid-thigh, while  _he,_ Prince _Kim_ , is in a full on black suit and tie. 

Yoongi coils in on himself. 

The Prince stands and saunters over, a glass bowl of  _something_ in his hands. 

He places it on the table beside Yoongi's bedside. 

It's a bowl of fruit.

"Eat, but do it slowly, otherwise you’ll get sick.” He commands before going back over to his desk, and Yoongi wants to argue back but, the fruit in the bowl is shining so delectably that his mouth almost waters at the sight. 

He picks a grape off of a stem and plops into his mouth.

It's the best fucking grape he's ever tasted.

The purple fruit explodes on his tongue. It's just the right amount of sweet, and so,  _so_ tangy that Yoongi claws at the bowl for more. 

He almost gags.

"Slow down." Prince Kim says calmly and Yoongi finds that he wants to listen when the man's voice isn't so, angry and demanding of attention.

He does. 

Prince Kim is writing something on his desk. "You should have eaten. Do you do know how disrespectful it is for me to provide you food and for you to turn it down like that? You damn near starved to death, and your room smelled like shit when I walked by. We can't have that, now can we." He bites, his eyes burning holes into the paper and his scribbling growing more and more violent with every word. 

Yoongi gulps before continuing to chew the apple slice he obtained. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't even know if he has the  _right_ to talk. He doesn't really understand the laws of...  _this._ This space this... this  _man._

Did he have a right to speak?

...

"I would rather die than beg you for _shit_." 

...

Fuck  _yeah_ he has a right to speak. 

Prince Kim snorts with a devilish quirk of his lips. The cool breeze in the room has turned muggy and stale and Yoongi feels the urge to puke up the fruit he has eaten. 

"You have quite the mouth on that pretty little face of yours." He says, voice grim and intact. 

Yoongi is no match for the blush that sprouts on his cheeks like watercolor. 

Prince Kim stands and makes his way to the door. "When I get back, I want this bowl empty.” He motions to the bowl of fruit before picking a grape with his honey-kissed fingers and leaving the room. 

 

Yoongi doesn't have to be told twice as he shovels the fruit into his mouth. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Passing out took a lot more energy than Yoongi would have thought.

He constantly drifts in and out of consciousness, the fragrance of the sheets are like a lullaby and Yoongi can't help but to let his head loll into a comfortable position as he falls asleep once again. 

Starvation is tiring. 

 

The door creaks open and Yoongi flutters open his eyes. His orbs fall on Prince Kim as he walks to his desk. Three or four men trail behind him and, Yoongi wants to hide himself, ashamed of the fact that he is barely clothed and in such a vulnerable state. 

Thankfully, Kim orders them out of the room and it is just the two of them.

Alone. 

Yoongi brings his pillow in closer, snuggling into the soft item as he tries to succumb to sleep once more. He should be on high alert with a notorious drug lord and murderer in the same room as him, but, he's too sleepy. 

The door opens once more, followed by the delicious smell of something cooked to perfection. 

"There." Yoongi hears Prince Kim say, before the door opens and closes again. He breathes in deeply, the smell of grilled meat and noodles infiltrating his button nose and making it crinkle in delight. 

Yoongi opens his eyes. 

Prince Kim is staring right back. 

The man blinks before returning his eyes to his work. 

"More food. Eat but again, do it slowly. I’ve already had to have your blood cleaned from my tiles. I don’t need your vomit on my floor.” Yoongi sits up slowly, the sheets of the bed falling to his lap as he ogles the food. 

"Blood?" He looks to the drug lord who, simply nods. 

"You cracked your head when you fell. Seokjin stitched it up." 

"S-Seokjin?" He repeats as his hands trail above his head, the tips of his fingers grazing the now closed wound. Prince Kim nods once more.

"He's our doctor." Yoongi hisses as his fingers mistakenly press into the wound. 

"Don't touch it. You could reopen it." Yoongi obeys as his hand falls down limply into his lap. His eyes are back on the food, then back at the Prince. 

The man isn't looking at him anymore.

"You better eat before it gets cold." 

 

Yoongi can’t stop eating.

He knows he is beyond full but he _can't stop eating_. Even when he is done, his stomach has the audacity to gurgle hungrily. 

Yoongi feels somewhat ashamed as he wipes the sauce from his pudgy face with his hands. He hears Prince Kim scoff before the man stands and gently hands him another napkin, the same type napkin with the lace linen and the letters  _k.t._ on the corner of the fabric. 

Yoongi wonders what the _T_ stands for as he swipes at his pouty lips with the napkin.

"Why are you doing this? Why don't you just kill me and get it over with? I don't like these games." Prince Kim fixes him with a look he can't decipher. 

"Nobody is playing games with you." Yoongi fucking begs to differ.

"Yes, yes you are. Stop being nice and just..." Yoongi doesn't even want to finish the sentence, his stomach doing somersaults and his food threatening to come right back up.

"Kill you?" Prince Kim offers up. Yoongi looks down at his lap, some of the color already starting to return to his skin. His chest feels warm, as does his belly. His limbs are energized as a jittery feeling bounces through his ligaments. He's a bit antsy, nervous now that he has eaten something and now that he has enough energy to care...

He is afraid of what this man will do to him. 

"I already told you. I'm not interested in killing you... yet." Yoongi scoffs bitterly. 

 _"Yet."_ He repeats with a roll of his eyes. He can feel Prince Kim's eyes on him once more and he desperately wants the feeling to go away. 

 _He_ just wants to go away. 

"You seem eager for me to kill you. Why?" He asks. Yoongi shivers. 

It's a good question, in truth. Yoongi has never actively thought about the reason  _why_ but, perhaps it's because his life has always been a downward spiral in his eyes. Nothing seems to go right for him. His parents gave up on him before he went to college, he barely made enough money as it is to _survive_. And no matter how much he loved Hoseok, his roommate was a goddamn idiot. 

Yoongi swallows before opening his mouth to speak. "I don't... I don't _want_ to die but..."

"But you don't want to live."

Yoongi feels like he's been dumped with a bucket of ice water, but he plays off Kim's words like it means not a thing. He shrugs, the weight once removed from his shoulders now back and heavier than ever. He can hear the chair beneath Kim creak in displeasure as he adjusts his body into it. 

"Your friend has time, as do you. I suggest you stop making this difficult and just do as I say. Who knows, if your friend finds the culprit in time, perhaps you can go home, and we can forget that this ever happened." He says before returning back to his work. Something tells Yoongi that the outcome of them just _forgetting_ is unlikely but, he doesn't have the strength to speak out against this. Prince Kim doesn't say another word to Yoongi as he reads and writes and reads and writes. 

 

Yoongi goes back to his room, a hollow feeling resounding in his chest and making his stomach sick with anticipation. 

All he knows is that Hoseok better hurry. 

And when Yoongi is back in bed, it's then that he realizes something. 

 

He's wearing the lace bodysuit that he arrived in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you want to check out and comment on my other cute taegi fic where yoongi is a single dad and grad student and tae is his hippy dippy professor you can check it out [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730922/chapters/39244644)  
> If you could leave me your thoughts on there as well it would really mean the world to me. :) Also, do we want flashbacks of tae's or yoongi's upbringing? or nah? 
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	4. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi falls ill and he leaves the house for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Long time no speak! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and it would mean the world to me if you let me know your thoughts? 
> 
> Also: TW: There is a warning as there is vomiting mentioned in this chapter (I sowwy) it starts at the very beginning and ends at "The man scoffs"
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> Thank you so much for everything. :)
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# 아픈 - Sick

The nauseous curdling in Yoongi's stomach is what wakes him.

He couldn't help but to emit the guttural moan that is stolen from his lips as he curls in on himself, his stomach sick and in pain. He has no time to make it to the bathroom before he heaves over the side of the bed, the contents of his stomach spilling from his lips and onto the floor as he gags it up, vomit pouring from him. His retching is loud and tears spring to his eyes as he tries to quiet himself. Yoongi is so loud, that he barely hears the footsteps rushing down the hall in his direction, the door swinging open and the light flickering on. 

"Jesus..." An unfamiliar voice says as the person rushes to his side. “ _Fuck_ Taehyung, look at... ah _shit.”_

Yoongi feels a warm hand place itself upon his forehead, the touch is gentle, coddling. 

Yoongi pulls away. 

"D-Don't―" 

 _"Shh,_ don't talk just, you're sick so―"

"I'm n-not,  _sick."_ Yoongi spits, his voice raw and scratchy from the vomiting. The man scoffs.

"I beg to fucking differ,  _Taehyung."_ The man says before standing upright, whipping his head in the direction of Prince Kim who... answers to Taehyung. 

His name is Taehyung.

Kim  _Taehyung._

" _What."_

"Don't fucking _'what'_ me Taehyung, why is... downstairs,  _now."_ The man barks before exiting the room. The Prince stalks after him wordlessly, as do the other few men who had entered the room behind them. Their faces are unseen, dark as the absence of light is the only thing to exist in the room. As the door opens, the auburn rays of the hallway stream through the crack of the door, two women in uniforms with towels entering and cleaning up the puddle of sick that Yoongi had gifted them. 

Yoongi turns over, his back facing the house workers as he intakes shallow breaths. The taste in his mouth is _disgusting_ , all acidy and thick in his mouth. His cheeks are pink in embarrassment as he curls in on his body, shielding himself from the world in a heap of soft, velvety covers. The sounds of Seoul are hazy as Yoongi tries to take slow, steady breaths in order to calm the nausea building in his stomach. Yoongi doesn't know how much time passes before the door opens again, but only this time, he only hears one pair of footsteps before the door shuts quietly.

"Yoongi-ssi?" The somewhat familiar voice calls out. It's the same voice that uttered the name _Taehyung,_ and the voice is soft in tone, airy in quality. It is soothing but, too different all the same. 

Jungkook has a soft, meek voice, apologetic in nature and jilted with nerves. 

Prince Kim's voice is cold, dark, and unforgiving in every sense of the word. 

All that Yoongi can remember of Hoseok's voice is his screams. 

Yoongi doesn't answer to the man, he only wraps the sheets tighter around his body, a feeble attempt to become smaller than usual. He hears the man sigh. Maybe if he pretends to be asleep, the man will leave him alone. 

He doesn't though.

"My name is Kim Seokjin, Prince Kim's medical advisor. I was the one who stitched up your wound?" He says, and although Yoongi is somewhat thankful to put a face to a name, he would have rather been left to bleed out in his sleep. 

It would have been such a painless way to go.

Seokjin takes in a deep breath. "Tell me, do you have an eating disorder? Are you bulimic or did you just start feeling ill?" The doctor asks as if it's no sweat off of his suit clad back. 

Yoongi sits up so that he can eye this man from the side, his orbs nearly hidden behind his lids as he squints at the man angrily. 

He wishes he had to puke again so he could spew it all over the man's designer shoes. 

"Fu-Fuck _off."_ Yoongi grits before tucking himself back into his covers. He can hear the doctor huff out an amused laugh. 

"Not eating for days and then gorging yourself full of food is not the answer Min Yoongi-ssi. Now luckily, from what I see, you are not ill, it's just your body's natural reaction from eating too much at one time, when you haven't had food in days. Your stomach feels the need to reject anything that you put inside of it and so, you'll have to ease back into your normal diet. I'll have someone bring by an antiemetic that you can take if you so choose. Until then, you should eat something light." The doctor explains. Just the thought of eating something makes Yoongi's stomach turn so, he doesn't say another word, choosing to keep quiet in hopes that the man will leave him be.

Yoongi hears another quiet sigh before the door clicks open, closing shut and causing the entire room to be enveloped in darkness once more.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Taehyung what the  _fuck_ is this boy doing here?" Seokjin asks angrily. The fire in his voice is  _more_ than evident and Taehyung has to stop himself from acting out of line.

"Seokjin I had no choice. It was either that, or me looking like I've lost my goddamn _mind_. Like everything I've worked so hard for has been for nothing." Seokjin barks out a bitter laugh.

"Oh so, kidnapping some useless stranger is what we're doing now?!" The doctor asks as he waves his arms frantically in exasperation. This time, Taehyung does roll his eyes and Seokjin has to use everything in his power to _not_ slap him upside the head. 

"Seokjin I had no other  _choice."_

"That's a _lie_ Taehyung, a bold faced _lie."_ Seokjin bites. "You  _always_ have a choice, and these low-level thugs already respect you enough so what was even the point in all of this? Why is this kid _here?"_ Seokjin's brows are furrowed, his eyes pleading. Taehyung feels as if he can justify his actions no longer.

"You know they don't respect me. They respect  _him."_ The Prince damn near mumbles, his tone of voice pained beyond belief. It makes Seokjin scoff. 

"Cut the pity party nonsense Taehyung. That man is dead he's been gone a long time, and ever since then  _you_ have been the one in charge. It's time to stop acting like a child and own up to your mistakes and  _this_ is a mistake." Seokjin says before being cut off by a vicious laugh from the Prince himself. 

"Oh is  _that so_ Jin? All this time it's been  _me_ and  _me_ alone and one of the few times that Namjoon has alerted me of someone cutting into my profit,  _I_ have done something about it,  _nobody_ else. They think that, just because he's dead they can make a fool out of me?!" Taehyung's eyes are mad with rage, his face red and his hands trembling by his sides. Seokjin sighs, having sensed the rising of the tantrum long before it even began. 

"Tae, that's not―" 

"I didn't know what else to  _do_ hyung, I didn't know and... he was just  _there._ He was there and I didn't, I just wanted him, that's all. I wanted him because it was a better option than killing the entire room and my money still being gone. Looking weak isn't an option anymore hyung, because if they start turning against me, I won't know what to do." Taehyung's shoulders almost slump as he gives into the natural weight of his body, pulling at his chest and his legs. His gaze is to the floor, his heart ramming in his chest, his teeth worrying his lip.

Taehyung doesn't use honorifics unless he has a meaning to and right now he  _does._

Seokjin takes a step to Taehyung's side. He reaches out, not wanting to scare away Taehyung's real thoughts but, not wanting him to remain uncomforted. 

"Taehyung, you are not your father, and he is not you. You have to do things your own way. You can't be afraid of making mistakes but, you also can't just keep taking things just because you feel like you can. This boy is going to be nothing but a distraction to you because as of right now, if you want to find out who's been doing this, you need to be free of any outside interferences.  _This_ boy is going to do nothing for you but make matters worse." He says. Taehyung chuckles bitterly. 

"So then what do you suppose I do _hmm?_ Give him back to them? Make me look even worse by keeping him and _them_ alive too?" He asks, his brow raised even though his tone is laced with defeat. 

Seokjin exhales. "I suggest you get rid of him before it's too late. I don't care how you do it but, if you do it now, he'll have no ties to you and he'll be safe. He can make his way back on his own." The doctor makes his way down the hall, turning around at the last second before making his way around the corner. 

"You need to get your priorities straight Taehyung, because if you don't, people are going to think they can get away with so much more than just a little bit of money."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yoongi survives.

 

He holds down most of his food, sleeps for as long as his troubled mind will allow, and he _survives_.

It isn't a pleasant way to live, wondering when each night will be his last but, he does it, and he does it with spite in his heart and the entire world on his shoulders.

Days come and go with few visitors and for that, Yoongi is eternally grateful. The doctor,  _Seokjin_ as Yoongi remembers, gives him random checkups every now and again. Yoongi doesn't mind them  _too_ much like he used to but, being poked at and prodded was never something he was accustomed to. 

He no longer receives visits from Jungkook, as Yoongi has been given permission to freshen up as many times as he likes, nor has he been asked to dinner, as his food is dropped off to him with a subtle knock on the door that is always the same pattern of raps. 

Days pass before Yoongi sees Prince Kim again. Referring to him as the  _Prince,_ as shameful and deplorable as it is, seems more appropriate than the name  _Taehyung._

Taehyung seems all too human to be the name for such a monster. 

And so, color Yoongi surprised when someone knocks on his door before lunch time. 

Yoongi doesn't say a word, not finding the need to waste his voice on those who simply don't care for his existence. He opens the door, coming face to face with the young brute whom he has not seen for quite some time now. 

"The Prince is making his rounds in the districts today and would like you to join us. We need you to be ready by three." Jungkook says. Yoongi fixes the boy with a lame look. 

"Does he not trust me? It's not like I can escape." Yoongi says bluntly. Jungkook has his hands crossed behind his back, one side of his lips quirking upward so slightly that Yoongi has to squint to confirm that it's there. 

"I don't know what the Prince thinks. All I know is that we would need to leave shortly so, as soon as you are ready, please make your way downstairs." Is what he says before making his way down the hall. Yoongi sighs before shutting the door and preparing to shower. 

Once he is done and dressed in the hoodie and pants that he had arrived in (the pair of clothes having been washed since then), he makes his way downstairs as he had been instructed. Yoongi misses the pressing of lace into his plump skin, the tightness and pull of the glistening fabric beneath drabby, worn down clothes.

Yoongi misses a lot of things.

A few of Prince Kim's men are already there. Yoongi of course knows Jungkook but, he can only remember the other men's faces, not their names, if they have even been spoken aloud in his presence. 

Yoongi stands idly by the arc that separates the living room from the dining room. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and forces his eyes down, the suits, including Jungkook, eyeing him as soon as he appeared. One looks a bit closer to Jungkook's age, his cheeks full as are his lips that are a pretty pink. His face is quite round and his soft-looking orange hair is swooped delicately upon his forehead, revealing clear skin and nice curved brows. Yoongi faintly remembers the other man, the one with the glasses and the soft chestnut colored hair. He doesn't see Seokjin and Yoongi has no idea why he clocks such a thing. 

The men's conversation immediately halt as someone else enters the room. 

"Let's go." He says and Yoongi knows for a fact that it's Prince Kim. 

Taehyung. 

The men walk past him and the man with the glasses presses the down button on the elevator. Yoongi looks up. 

The Prince is staring at him.

"That means you too." He says before turning his back to the smaller man and making his way to the elevator doors. Yoongi scoffs quietly. 

_Fucking dick._

The elevator doors part and all of the men go inside, followed by a small Yoongi who has never felt more out of place. 

 

The trip to wherever the hell they're going is somewhat quiet, save for the man with the glasses who, Yoongi soon learns is named  _Namjoon,_ the same man whom almost killed Hoseok when promptly asked. 

Yoongi immediately can't stand the man. He talks as if he's lived for hundreds of years, like he has an answer to everything and it pisses Yoongi off to no end. Yoongi has always hated those know-it-all types who feel the need to be a leader in every situation. Namjoon has a square face, tan skin, and dimples deeper than Yoongi's worries and self doubts. The frames upon his face are thick and black and sharp and Yoongi just really  _can't fucking stand him._

They pull onto a thin road, the area around them barren and devoid of skyscrapers for miles on end. A rustic, oily warehouse comes into view. Yoongi's hands begin to tremble as the car pulls to a complete and total stop. Yoongi's heart burns a fire within him, his ribs rattling from the pressure of his pulsing organs. His stomach is sick, his chest hurts, and his eyes are on  _fire._

The doors open and Yoongi’s voice is caught in his throat, trapped like a bubble and clogged heavily at the back of his tongue. 

He’s going to die and _fuck_ Yoongi thought he was ready but he’s not.

Jungkook and the man with the pretty lips step out of the car, freeing up Yoongi’s sides but making him feel even more claustrophobic than before. Prince Kim steps out of the passenger seat, making his way the back of the vehicle, the very last row in which Yoongi is sitting. 

Yoongi grabs the door handle to his left, yanking it closed but not quick enough to do the same to the one on his right, coming face to face with the Prince himself. 

The smaller boy kicks his feet up, pushing himself to the opposite of the car and cowering in fear.

”J-Just let me go, _please_. I won’t t-tell anyone about you I promise but _please_ don’t kill me I’m, I’m not... d-don’t―"

” _Hey_.” Taehyung grits, his eyes filled with poison and his voice raw. Yoongi seals his lips but, the flicker of  _something_ in Taehyung's eyes does not go unnoticed. It's like his expression nearly cracks before it's back in place, stony and cold, in the blink of an eye. 

“Stay here and don’t make a sound. Someone will be guarding the car so they’ll hear you if you scream. You stay quiet until we get back, understood?” 

Yoongi doesn’t want to understand, he _can’t_ understand.

But he does.

So he nods.

The door closes and Yoongi is left alone, trapped in the third row of seats and barely able to breathe. The lights above him fade to black, the air within the car stuffy and too warm to sit comfortably in. It takes a while to regain his dignity after begging for his life but, he manages.

Yoongi takes a peek out the window. He sees a head of auburn hair. It’s pretty, and upon seeing the brownish orange color, Yoongi can only remember the face of one man. 

He knocks on the window, the man with the pretty lips and long lashes turns to him. Yoongi clears his throat as the man opens the door just a peek. 

“What?” He asks, his voice tilted in an annoyed way.

Yoongi barely bites back his scoff but regardless of the fact that he is annoyed, the burning feeling a little ways below his belly button is becoming too painful to ignore. 

"I have to take a piss." Yoongi says, his voice pinched and small. The man rolls his pretty eyes. 

"You're going to have to wait." Yoongi's jaw clenches. 

"I...  _really_ can't hold it and unless you want me to piss all over these expensive ass seats, I really need you to let me out."

The man sighs. He looks around, clearly facing some kind of internal yet visible dilemma. He fixes Yoongi with a defeated look. 

" _Fine_ but, you need to hurry, and if you even  _look_ you're about to run, I won't hesitate to shoot you." The words make Yoongi's blood freeze cold. 

He sighs. "Okay." The door opens slightly and Yoongi squeezes out. He is escorted to a side of the road not too far from the warehouse. Once the grip on his arm tightens, telling him to stop, Yoongi's face scrunches. 

"Are you going to give me some privacy? Or..." Yoongi trails off, hoping the answer is  _yes_ but with the look this man is giving him, Yoongi expects that it's actually the opposite. 

The man resembles a doll, with his saturated orange hair, plump lips, big bright eyes and soft, curly lashes. 

Yoongi doesn't want to pee in front of him. 

Even so, Yoongi unzips his pants with a sigh, relieving himself as quickly as he can before tucking away and sheepishly finishing. 

Yoongi thinks he can run. He thinks he could  _actually_ have a chance at escaping. The horizon is still shimmering before him. The air is cool and comfortably so, and there is just so much  _space._

But then he sees the gun attached to the doll man's hip. 

His dream shatters to dust. 

He is led back to the car and locked in. Yoongi attempts to fall asleep, the seats firm enough and the other taking forever to come back to the vehicle. His lids grow heavy and the second his eyes flutter closed, the doors open and the light overhead flickers on. Yoongi is jolted awake, the car moving as more and more people enter. The heavy scent of smoke and musk fill the vehicle and Yoongi has the sudden urge to throw up. 

He knows what gunpowder smells like. 

" _Fuck."_ Jungkook groans. His pupils are dilated, traumatized by whatever the hell just happened. 

Prince Kim giggles adorably, which by the way, _totally_ fucks with the entire mise en scène of the whole ordeal. 

"Well  _that_ was something." Namjoon says. Prince Kim turns to face him. 

"Why don't people just  _listen_ Joon-ah? I don't understand." He says. Namjoon fixes him with a dimpled grin. 

"That's because there's nothing  _to_ understand." He drawls. It makes Prince Kim pause before, throwing his head back against the rest of his seat, laughing joyously. 

Yoongi wonders if he'll ever stop feeling sick. 

 

They make a few more pit stops, every one lasting longer than the stop before. The air becomes thick, sickening with dread and a bloody tinge of fear that has Yoongi sinking further and further into his seat. 

They're back in the city now. Yoongi can tell by the change in the atmosphere and the difference of the sky. Namjoon pulls into the shopping district, one that is usually packed by this time of day but for some reason, it is not. 

Yoongi is trembling now,  _a lot._ He knows Jungkook and the man with he fire colored hair can feel it but he can't seem to get a grip. 

Soon enough however, the car pulls to a stop and everyone gets out, well, everyone except Yoongi of course. 

But the car door to his right is left open and in leans Prince Kim, his eyes indecipherable and piercing. 

"Get out." Is all he says and Yoongi feels that he has no other choice but to obey his every word. 

They all exit the vehicle. Yoongi's heart is stricken with a paralyzing fear that has his steps wobbly and uneven.

No one will hear his screams, no one will see him get killed and even if someone _did_ happen to see, the likelihood of them helping is slim to none.

Yoongi is immediately crowded by suits, almost to the point of displeasure, that is, until his eyes land on a small, haughty boutique. 

Yoongi's steps halt, and the orange haired man behind him collides into his back with an  _oof._ He fixes Yoongi with a look of irritation, one that he can't really see because he is all too focused on the shop across the way. 

However, the look of crossness fades as Prince Kim eyes him, as if challenging his thoughts. Something is different now, and the other men can tell.

Prince Kim's tense shoulders have reluctantly relaxed themselves, his previously clenched fists uncurled, his fingers stretched and colored with veins. He has followed Yoongi's line of sight and right now, it's clear to everyone what is happening now, well, all except Yoongi of course. 

"Namjoon,  _Jimin,_ go to the business office, visit Mr. Lee. He knows what we came here for. Gguk, stay with  _us."_ The Prince says,  _us_ being  _him_ and, Yoongi. 

Nothing seems to make sense anymore but, it's not like it ever did. 

Yoongi follows the Prince wordlessly, Jungkook trailing behind like a lost puppy but, Yoongi pays him no mind. 

Prince Kim is like the pied piper and Yoongi, his loyal snake. It's scary how empty Yoongi feels and yet, his palms begin to sweat, his skin clammy. 

The Prince opens the door to the shop, the chimes above them ringing delightfully as they enter the store. At the counter, a young woman is carelessly playing on her phone, her gaze bored and unbothered. 

"Hello, welcome to..." Her words fade as she locks eyes with the Prince himself. She immediately pockets her phone, her hands already trembling uncomfortably. 

"Prince Kim," she bows, "Hello, would you like help with finding anything today?" She asks, her voice jittered with nerves and fright. 

Prince Kim shakes his head, his eyes dark and brows furrowed. "No, just looking around, unless, you need help with something." 

It takes a solid minute for Yoongi to realize that Prince Kim is talking to  _him,_ however when he does, he can't find it in him to stay still.

" _No_ I uhm... no." He settles on lamely, unable to meet the Prince's eyes. The woman nods shakily and straightens her spine, clasping her hands on the desk with a timid, nervous smile. "Alright, I'll be here if you need any help." She says with a small voice. Prince Kim stuffs his hands into his pockets, his eyes darting around the shop with furrowed brows. Yoongi picks at his nails, his clothes baggier than before and swallowing him whole. 

The Prince clenches his jaw.

He looks to Yoongi, his lips parting as if he were to say something but, he doesn't. He disappears near the back of the shop and Jungkook also seems to not know what to do with himself, as he looks around frantically. 

Yoongi inhales a shaky breath, the air around him stiffening when his eyes catch a flash of baby blue. 

_Lace._

Yoongi makes his way to the mannequin, two of about the same size standing on either side of it. One [bodysuit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/212021094999271783/) is fair and blue, almost like the color of the sky as soon as dawn breaks and morning begins. It reminds Yoongi of freedom, like the paleness of winter or the sparkle of light, the lace shimmering when it catches the dimly lit ceiling bulbs. This is the one that caught Yoongi's attention in the first place but right beside it, is one that makes Yoongi's very breath hitch in his throat. 

This [bodysuit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/808888783049261365/) is a blood red, accentuated curves already laced in and drenched in diamonds. 

Yoongi allows his hands to travel along the sides of the suit, the very touch sending shivers down Yoongi's spine. 

And that's how things go, Yoongi walking by diamond encrusted robes and scintillated undergarments of all shades and colors, trailing his pale hands alongside the detailed fabric and glitter. His chubby cheeks radiate heat, the skin buzzing a faint red and causing him to smile as the lace practically cradles his heart and makes him feel oh so warm. Yoongi's fingers curl at his lips, trapping in his tiny giggles that threaten to spill past his pouty lips and filter through his warm knuckles. One [silk robe](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/517069600937134825/) has Yoongi shuddering as he runs his fingers alongside it. He is so mesmerized by the exquisite clothing that he doesn't even feel a pair of almond shaped eyes upon him, eyes that have seen many nightmares in the few years of living experienced. 

And even if Yoongi did, he wouldn't care. 

Yoongi finally comes back down to earth at the sound of someone clearing their throat. He turns to find Namjoon and,  _Jimin_ perhaps? Again, Yoongi doesn't care but, he doesn't want to leave, he really  _really_ doesn't. 

"We're done here." Namjoon says to Prince Kim and the _Prince_.

He's staring. 

He's staring right at Yoongi.

And Yoongi is staring right back. 

Yoongi immediately averts his eyes, his cheeks reddening even more as he shivers in embarrassement. He squeezes his lips together and suddenly, Yoongi feels filthy,  _wrong._ Yoongi allows his teeth to worry his bottom lip and without warning, Yoongi quivers with bashfulness, aware that he is the center of attention and not quite fond of it.

Had Taehyung been watching him the whole time?

"Let's... let's go." Prince Kim says. 

Yoongi wants to cry.

 

The trip back home is short, almost too short. 

Yoongi once again is trapped as the five men make their way inside of the high rise. Yoongi damn near runs to his room, his chest aching from all of the heavy sobs he hides inside. 

He shuts the door, dropping face down to the bed and sobbing into the sheets. Yoongi has cried himself to sleep many times but  _never_ does he remember crying so much. 

His insides feel pained and cramped, as if his entire body is being wrung out like a wet towel. Everything within him hurts and the sudden taste of freedom has done nothing to quench his thirst for comfort and care. 

Yoongi needs to hold onto something, to  _be_ held. 

And in the morning, after Yoongi has cried himself to sleep, he opens his door.

At his feet, lay five, huge shopping bags. 

 

Filled to the brim with lace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think?
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	5. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi feels sorry but so is everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOP! Here we go folks! I think you can tell by the title of this chapter that things are gonna get a little different??? This fic isn't a slow burn type of thing so, I hope you guys are in for the long haul as the entirety of this fic won't be anything too crazy! Please enjoy and please, visit me using the links below! I would love to hear your thoughts as well as ideas and PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT OR KUDOS! 
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# 미안해요 - Sorry

Hoseok hasn't stopped looking.

He hasn't stopped looking for the man who has been taking Prince Kim's money and no matter how hard he tries, he doesn't come up with a single fucking clue. Not a goddamn hint that can lead him in the right direction. None of the others have come forward and told him anything. Hoseok doesn't even believe that any of his brothers can betray him like this but, that's the problem. Yoongi has always told Hoseok that he was too naïve, too trusting for his own good. One of his brothers could very well be the culprit behind all of this, and even  _if_ any of them knew the truth, would they tell? Would they risk their lives just to save someone that wasn't themselves? 

Hoseok highly doubts it. 

He only wishes that his hyung weren't so impulsive, so angry and volatile. Yoongi has far too much rage and scorn pent up in that tiny little body of his to be in such positions. The young man can never keep his pouty lips shut and in the process of defending himself _and_ Hoseok as well, he's going to get himself killed. 

Hoseok can't handle that,  _anything_ but that. 

The roads are slick with the cold rain of Seoul, and the dim night sky has Hoseok all up in the wrong thoughts. 

Yoongi is probably already dead and he just doesn't know it yet. 

Yoongi is probably  _dead._

 

Hoseok has to stop the car. He pulls over to the side of the road, yanking the car door open and heaving his cries out into the night. Everything within him burns with sadness and misery, his stomach churning and his face soaked with more than just the rain.

Because when it does rain in Seoul, it pours. 

 

And Yoongi is probably dead. 

 

* * *

 

Yoongi can't stop looking through the bags. 

He doesn't believe his onyx eyes and he  _can't stop looking through the bags._

 

It doesn't just stop at lingerie, oh no, there's so much more. 

So much more than Yoongi could have ever imagined. 

In the first bag lies bodysuits of all colors and curves. Dashes of rosy pinks, violets and indigos, ivy greens and deep,  _deep_ blacks with rhinestones greet Yoongi as he filters through the clothing with pale, shaky hands. In another bag rests designer chokers, mesh tops of maroon, and the  _prettiest_ of golds and silvers. Fur robes line the bottom of another bag, and in the last bag, lies three pairs of [Gucci sneakers,](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/725220346221503410/) one pair black, one pair white, and the other, engraved and stitched in the prettiest of [floral artwork.](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/ATlMJCYE5bsa0Okz9NwRallU9sHmAzG431xd9OXZhGcXb77Cyt7_kE4/)

Yoongi's chest swells with joy. 

His hands can't stop shaking and his heart won't stop pounding behind the frail and dainty skin of his warm chest. A sensation akin to merriment blooms within him, causing his whole body to tingle with content. 

But then, in the dull flash of a moment, Yoongi remembers where he is. 

And as much as Yoongi's heart yearns for something more, something real and truthful, as much as Yoongi would  _love_ to will the truth away...

He cannot. 

And so with this dreadful truth in mind, Yoongi peeks out of his prison cell before trotting downstairs as quickly and as quietly as he can. He makes way past the dining room, through an unnecessarily long hallway before making a few quick turns and finally, coming into contact with someone who is at least a _little_ familiar. 

Correction:  _two_ people who are at least a little familiar. 

Yoongi sees the doctor, Seokjin, talking in  _very_ close quarters with none other than Namjoon who, is lounging comfortably atop the arm rest that the velvet red couch provides. Upon hearing the pitter patter of Yoongi's sockless feet, the two men turn their gazes toward him. Seokjin's eyes are kind, Namjoon's, are questioning. 

"Min Yoongi-ssi, how are you feeling?" The doctor asks. Yoongi shifts between feet uncomfortably, feeling as if he had interrupted something private and of importance. 

"'M fine, I need to see... Prince, Kim. I need to see Prince Kim." Yoongi stutters out nervously, his voice quiet and bashful. Namjoon scoffs. 

"Prince Kim doesn't just  _see_ people. I don't know what you think this is. If you have something to say then you either tell me or―" 

 _"Namjoon."_ Seokjin briskly cuts across the man's sentence, fixing him with a death defying glare. Seokjin turns back to look at Yoongi, the dimpled man beside him now looking down at the floor ignominiously. "He is in his office. I can show you where that is if you'd like." Yoongi doesn't necessarily know what to say. The power shift between the two men has Yoongi quaking. It serves the man right.

For being so ready to kill Hoseok.

But now, Yoongi is confused. He came here for one thing and one thing only but now, he is not so sure of what he wants. He doesn't think he is ready to face the man behind this whole arrangement but, he knows he has to.

He needs answers.

"Okay." He says, eventually. 

Seokjin takes Yoongi back up the steps and down a new hall that Yoongi had never noticed before. He swears, this place is like some kind of maze, too many ways to turn and not enough places to go. A fortress of impending doom it seems. 

Seokjin stops in front of a wooden door. He motions to it with his long, delicate looking hands. "This is him. Just knock. I don't see why he won't let you in." He says before wandering back down the way they came. Yoongi feels sick to his stomach, not having planned this far ahead. 

Yoongi raises his hand, his knuckles promptly rapping against the door twice before falling weakly at his sides. 

 _"What."_ Yoongi hears. He swallows down his unresolved fear. 

"It's Yoongi..." Is all he can manage to say. He is met with silence before he hears the screeching of a chair on its last legs.

_"Come in."_

Yoongi opens the door, steeling himself for the face of the man whom he has been too terrified to see. A concoction of fear and excitement coils in Yoongi's gut. He doesn't understand why a part of him wants to burst through this door with no remorse, demanding to know what the hell is going on here but, an even bigger, more prominent part of him wants to run away and hide in his room, never to be seen again.

Yoongi's head is the first thing to peek through the door. He can see that Prince Kim has his head down, his wispy, chocolate locks dripping past the black headband resting a ways above his sharp, sculpted brows. He seems to be writing something, and the dim lighting casts a shadow upon the man's face, his scowl appearing far deeper amidst the shadows of the room. As soon as the Prince whips his head up at the sound of the door creaking, Yoongi can't help the gasp that sweeps past his lips. 

"What do you want." Prince Kim has a habit of asking questions in a way that never sound like questions. More like commands. This only makes Yoongi feel more in the wrong for being here. 

He gulps before fully stepping into the room, feeling almost naked. 

"I can't take the gifts."

Yoongi shudders at the cold of the silence as Prince Kim raises a brow.

"Excuse me?" 

Yoongi doesn't realize he's shaking until he looks down at his fingers, curled and fisting the fabric of his sweatpants. 

"The gifts... I can't take them." Prince Kim pushes himself back in his seat, his upper half leaning back, his legs parted. 

"And who said they were gifts?" 

Yoongi blinks. 

"W- _What?"_ Yoongi questions, the room suddenly a bit hazy. It's then that Yoongi realizes that the day has just begun for him and seeing Prince Kim this early in the morning because of  _his_ own beck and call has him in some sort of disarray. 

Prince Kim clears his throat. 

"The clothes. Who said they were gifts?" The man asks once more. Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek.

"No one  _said_ they were but, what else could they be?" The smaller and meeker of the two asks. Prince Kim is still writing but again, when is he _not_ when the man is constantly holed up in his office. 

Yoongi doesn't  _seek_ people out. In fact, it is usually Yoongi that is the one being sought, and after dealing with someone as desperate and puppy-like as Kyungsoo, Yoongi knows that regardless of how he feels about his own appearance, it is what he wears _underneath_ the clothes that gives him the courage to go on, the  _strength_ and the willpower to fight. 

Yoongi can get people to do whatever he wants  _when_ he wants them to, however, right now, his battle armor of lingerie is no where to be seen. Even when supplied with it, Yoongi doesn't have the integrity to choke himself with lace.

And even when smothered in it, Yoongi feels powerless against Prince Kim's snake-like eyes. 

"People usually do something to  _deserve_ a gift, yes?" The Prince asks as he tucks away his work. Yoongi wishes that he had kept on writing. 

Because now all eyes are on him. 

The dark haired boy shrugs. "Not always." He says. Prince Kim hums.

"Not always?" He says once more with a tilt of his voice as well as the enticing curl of his lips. Yoongi has to keep his orbs from rolling towards the back of his brain despite the rapid pace of his heart. He doesn't feel like repeating himself and somehow Prince Kim has a way of making Yoongi feel like he's trapped in a maze whenever they engage in conversation. 

"I don't want them." He settles on instead, because it's more definite and assertive than  _I can't._ _Can't_ is a quitting word and Yoongi has no time to partake in such games. He isn't a quitter. 

However Prince Kim seems to have other plans. 

"Yes you do." 

 

And he's right.

 

Because Yoongi does want them.

 

 _All_ of them.

 

And curse the Prince for being so calculating and smart when it comes to Yoongi's finicky-ness. If it were up to him and under the right circumstances, Yoongi would be having his own bootleg runway fashion show in his room right now. 

But that is not his room upstairs and this home is not  _his_ home. 

"I don't―"

"I  _hate_ liars Min Yoongi, I really do. You know my mother was a liar, and a really good one too." The words trickle from Prince Kim's mouth as if he were telling a bed time story. Yoongi feels lulled in like a sleeping babe, however he is no fool.

Prince Kim has a point here. 

"I know when people are lying to me, as I have had tons of practice, and you are not the first person to lie to me, nor will you be the last." Prince Kim says as he stands from his desk and opens the velvet blinds of his window.

"So you may as well take the clothes. You don't have anything else to wear besides that ratty hoodie and those ugly pair of jeans. I have no use for those clothes, nor do I want them back. Bras and panties aren't really my style." The man says with a contemplative tone. Yoongi can damn near  _hear_ the shit eating grin in his voice. It's condescending and twisted. Prince Kim is  _judging_ Yoongi, calling out all that he sees without really knowing  _who_ he is talking to. Yoongi can't help but to feel the vinyeard of rage, morphing and caging around his heart.

Because Min Yoongi knows how it feels to be mocked for his dreams, and there was no way in hell he was going to let this  _prick_ do the same. 

"I don't give a fuck about what's your style or  _not._ What, do you expect me to  _thank_ you? Because I won't if that's what you're asking. I won't thank you for shit. I'll  _never_ thank you in a million years for what you've done to me! I may not have taken your fucking money but neither has Hobi and if this is your way of feeling good about yourself for all the shit you've caused then you can take your bags of clothes and shove them up your―" 

In one quick motion, everything changes. Yoongi feels at the top of the mountain, hands held tightly around the reigns of this engagement when suddenly, his throat closes up, his skin hot and his eyes burning, as if hot coals were being pressed into his pupils. 

Prince Kim's movements are swift, his gaze quick and his eyes steady. He is nothing but a blur as he stands, the room now under his control. Him and Yoongi are face to face and the smaller boy is just now realizing how much of a difference they are in height because Prince Kim has some  _inches_ on him. 

And it's mind boggling, no,  _life_ changing, how quickly the tides turn with no warning or remorse. 

Yoongi's nostrils are once again infiltrated with the scent of cedar wood, vanilla, and  _cinnamon._

"You really don't know who you're dealing with, do you." It isn't a question, and Yoongi doesn't think he has the right answer. 

The two are barely an inch apart in distance, Yoongi close to cowering and the Prince towering over him like a skyscraper. 

"The fact that you feel like you can talk to me any kind of way really has me thinking about what I need to do to make you understand where you are right now." 

The tips of Yoongi's ears turn pink as embarrassment floods his anxiety riddled system.

"Let me go―"

"No,  _really_ Min Yoongi-ssi, tell me something, what is stopping me from killing you  _right now?_ Isn't that what you've been asking me for? Huh? This whole time? Tell me, what is stopping me from putting a bullet in your brain  _right now."_

Yoongi swallows thickly, praying to anyone who is listening from up above, that whatever he has to say next, has some goddamn sense attached to it.

"Because you made a promise." Yoongi almost whispers. He wets his lips before continuing, desperately trying to ignore how Prince Kim's eyes are drawn to the action. 

 

"You made a promise to Hobi that if he found who you were looking for, you would let me go, unharmed." 

 

Prince Kim intakes a sharp breath that has his whole chest expanding. The grip he has on Yoongi's arm has the smaller of the two far too warm to understand. The room has shrunk down to an impeccable size, making Yoongi feel even smaller than before. Prince Kim's eyes locked on his does nothing to ease this effect. The man's steely glare is devoid of any shine, dark and buried in sadness, bitterness, his orbs reminding Yoongi of a dark cup of coffee.

Prince Kim scoffs. 

He lets go of Yoongi, crossing back to his desk in mere strides. 

Yoongi feels cold. 

"You _actually_ believe that I will keep my word?" He asks. His tone is strong but his words almost sound broken, as if he is  _trying_ to prove something now. Yoongi wants to believe that this is the same man from before but, now he is not too sure.

"You said it yourself, that if you wanted me dead you would have killed me already." Yoongi says, finally finding the breath that was lost before. 

"I did, didn't I." The man mutters beneath his breath. Yoongi's breathing shutters in and out, his body feeling as if he had been dumped with a bucket of ice water. 

Yoongi came here for one reason and one reason only. 

"I don't want the clothes."

"I don't care what you want. They are yours, and you will keep them. Am I clear?" 

Yoongi is taken aback by the sudden abruptness in the man's voice. Usually Prince Kim speaks as if he has all the time in the world but now, there is a quickness to his tone that makes Yoongi feel as if he is no longer wanted. That Prince Kim wants him out now.

 _"Look_ I―"

"Another word and you'll regret ever stepping foot into this room now  _leave."_ Prince Kim fixes Yoongi with another one of his signature glares, only this time, the man's eyes look wet and bleak. Yoongi's lip wobbles as he swallows thickly. 

 

 

Min Yoongi does as he's told.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yoongi doesn't know the time, and although his vision is blearry with exhaustion, his body is jittered with restlessness.

He knows that sleep won't come easy to him tonight, however sleep never  _did._

Yoongi hid the bags of clothes beneath the bed. He doesn't even want to look at them, let alone _think_ of them, but it's no use.

One bag must have cost at least 1000000 won. 

There is a knock on the door that has Yoongi sitting up with a start. He kicks his legs over the bed, planting them as firmly as he can on the ground before making to stand. He doesn't exactly want to open the door, it probably being just his dinner on the other side, however he does, and who is there to greet him, surprises him.

Namjoon gives a curt bow before clearing his throat. "Min Yoongi-ssi." He acknowledges. Yoongi takes in a breath, the look in his eyes bored and unwelcoming. 

The man with the glasses has been nothing but unkind to him, not only that but, he was  _real_ quick to shoot Hoseok in the head when it came down to it. 

"I want to apologize for... this morning. It wasn't my place to speak to you that way. It won't happen again." 

The words sound forced, as if, Namjoon had been  _asked_ to deliver them, however, Yoongi doesn't mind it too much. 

In fact, he takes a bit of pride in the fact that the man whom had only helped to worsen his stay here is apologizing to him. 

However Yoongi is in no place to  _not_ accept.

"It's fine... I guess." Is what Yoongi settles on instead, not having the heart to fake acceptance. Namjoon seems to release a breath he had been holding for quite some time as his stance loosens and his shoulders lower. He gives a final nod before turning to leave but, not before saying one last thing. 

"The Prince has a very important meeting to attend tomorrow afternoon."

 

 

"He wants you in attendance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment or a kudos if you are so inclined? It would mean the world to me! 
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/VANTAEGIELLA)  
> [my tumblr♡](http://bangtanadriella.tumblr.com/)  
> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)


	6. Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi hears something he shouldn't have heard, and in the end, it costs him his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BITCH THAT COMEBACK THO.
> 
> So hey y'all. I'm sorry it took so long but I really hope you enjoy this one cuz I tried to make it cute or whatever. !!!TW!!! slight and not detailed thoughts of suicide please take care friends, love yoselves (also lil bit of smut but not really because I cant write that I'm so sorry)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! Please leave me a little kudos or a comment. I'd really love that. I wanted to make this chapter a bit longer than usual since I made you all wait so long so please don't hate me after this lmao. 
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/VANTAEGIELLA)  
> [my tumblr♡](http://bangtanadriella.tumblr.com/)  
> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)

 

# 구세주 - Savior

To say that Yoongi is nervous, well, that is a fucking understatement.

It's quite hard  _not_ to be when you're checked into the house of a notorious drug lord, murderer, thief and God knows what else. It's as if he is constantly living on edge, not knowing where or  _when_ his last breath will take place. Meals are eaten with caution and sleep is practically nonexistent, the prisoner in Yoongi taking the saying ' _sleep with one eye open'_ quite literally. It is the truth and the reality of his circumstances that always has him nauseous and aching to close his eyes and never wake up. 

Yoongi knows it's well past the time he should still be asleep, but maybe the others will forget about his existence and leave without him. Maybe they'll accidentally leave the door unlocked so that he can make his escape and get the fuck up outta here. Maybe he'll have time to steal some money, or one of those paintings so that he could sell it online for trillions of won. 

There's a knock on the door. 

_Shit._

Yoongi groans before throwing his covers to the floor with vexation. The carpet is fuzzy and warm against Yoongi's bare feet, a pleasant and welcoming feeling, despite the overwhelming heat of his boiling blood. " _Okay_ Jungkook. I'm getting ready―" 

"This isn't Jeongguk." 

Yoongi's blood runs cold, his bones freezing in place before running to the door to open it. 

In the hall stands Prince Kim, hands behind his back as his eyes drearily meet Yoongi's. His body looks worn out, tired. There is a slight crinkle in his forehead, surely brought about by exhaustion. Yoongi's hands just  _itch_ for some strange reason. 

"I need to speak with you." He says. The words make Yoongi shiver. He knows he is in no position to say  _no_ but, he is still reeling from their most recent encounter, and the satisfaction of denying this man is a  _really_ tempting offer right about now. 

Yoongi doesn't speak, he just moves himself away from the doorway, wordlessly granting the Prince access into his humble abode. The man takes great strides within, crossing over to the bed and standing in front of it. He looks around the room, eyes trailing over every nook and cranny, as if he is judging Yoongi's space. The smaller of the two looks down at the floor, his cheeks undeniably warm. It's not like he's  _changed_ anything. The room is the exact same room that he arrived in, with the exception of the bags beneath his bed that cost the amount of his tuition times ten. 

Oh shit, Yoongi had forgotten all about school. 

Oh well.

"I need you to understand where we are going this afternoon." Prince Kim begins. "The people you are going to come into contact with tonight are very dangerous. You do not speak unless you are spoken to and even  _then,_ you look to me to see if you should answer. Do not go  _anywhere_ without permission. Either I or Namjoon will tell you where to sit and from then on, you remain silent until it is time for us to leave. No questions, no outbursts, no talking _period._ Am I clear?" 

Prince Kim's eyes are glowing like hot coals. Yoongi knows that now is not the time to act out of turn, no matter how much he wants to. Yoongi wants to question who this man thinks he is, and how he has the audacity to tell him what to do. 

But then Yoongi remembers exactly who he is and he doesn't dwell on the thought any further. 

"I'm not a child you know. I know when to speak and when not to speak." Yoongi braces himself for some kind of impact, knowing damn well it's best to keep his mouth shut but, the opportunity was far too tempting to pass up. 

Prince Kim snarls. "Do you see what I mean?  _That_ is the kind of outburst that will get yourself killed where we're going." He warns darkly before taking a stomp forward, an attempt to make Yoongi cower away in intimidation. Yoongi bites his lip before rounding the corner of the bed, busying himself with the fixing of covers and sheets, so that the man before him can not sense his fear. 

"If someone wants to shoot me, then let them. At this rate I'll never see my family again. I'll never see my  _friend_ again, does it really matter whether I live or die?" 

Yoongi knows he is just bullshitting. He loves his family but, they never understood his drive. They never understood why he ticked the way he did or, why he strived to let music take his free will. 

He loved his family but he didn't like them. He could do without seeing them again, but what he  _couldn't_ do without, was seeing Hoseok again. 

Yoongi hears Prince Kim grunt. "Perhaps, if you  _behave,_ then maybe... maybe I will allow you to see your friend again." 

Wait.

 _Wait_.

Yoongi whips around to face the man, his tired eyes wide upon hearing such a bombshell. His fingers are shaking at his sides and his chest feels far too tight to breathe, and that is desperately what Yoongi needs right now. A  _huge_ deep breath. 

"You would let me see 'Seokie again?" Yoongi could almost laugh at how taken aback the man looks, his usual serious demeanor cracked and faded. He looks as if he had just been caught swiping a cookie from the forbidden cookie jar. 

"I... I don't know what the hell a 'Seokie is but,  _if_ you behave, maybe you can see him again. But that is only if you do as I say." Prince Kim responds, voice colored in a domineering way that seems to be missing something. 

Perhaps it's the bite. 

Yoongi nods so quick he becomes dizzy. "Okay." Prince Kim's expression of disturbance turns to one of annoyance, a quick transition in between that is formed in the glint of his eyes, one that is subtle but most certainly there. 

It is as if the look of anger is forced. 

"The second you speak out of turn, I'll make sure your friend... you'll...  _you_ will regret it. Understood?" The man grits out, clearly not committed to the bit as his threat falls short upon deaf ears.

Yoongi nods curtly, twiddling his thumbs and making eye contact with the ground beneath Prince Kim's feet. The man exhales. 

"Jimin will set you out some clothes to wear. Get ready. We leave in an hour, but I suggest you come down sooner than that in time for breakfast." With that, Prince Kim leaves and the thought of even stomaching breakfast makes Yoongi queasy. 

The fact that Prince Kim decided to even share such a thought made him feel even queasier. As if the man actually cared whether he ate or not. 

Did he?

Yoongi showers, crossing the hall quickly with a towel wrapped tightly around his small form. He feels even more naked without anything of his own to wear, his worn out hoodie and sweats now beyond dirty. Still, he can't get the man's words out of his head. 

Did he mean it? When he said that he would let him see Hoseok? Was it true? Is there really a chance that his friend could still be alive for much longer? 

The sentiment should make Yoongi hate Prince Kim even more, for dangling something so vital to his existence,  _just_ out of reach. It isn't fair, and Yoongi can't help but to feel played with but, he doesn't. He doesn't hate the man. 

Perhaps the Prince is just more compassionate than he seems to let on. 

A silk, black [suit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/858569116437719398/) with a sequin jacket and slacks to match the shirt, rests neatly on Yoongi's bed upon his arrival. He can't help but to drool at the sight of such a polished suit, the sequin managing to dazzle and shine with no need for the light through the blinds. Yoongi's hands glide along the fabric of the suit. He flips over the jacket, as well as the pants and the shirt, looking for something  _very_ specific that seems to be nonexistent. 

God _dammit._

Upon realizing the position that he was purposely put in, Yoongi sits on the foot of the bed, eyeing the suit as if its threads were snakes ready to bite him. 

What the fuck is he supposed to wear  _under_ the suit?! Who was the dumbass that decided to put everything else on the bed  _except_ for the underwear?

Yoongi could just wear the suit and nothing else but, that doesn't sound too appealing, nor does it sound comfortable in the _least_ bit. 

With a deep, foreboding sigh, Yoongi pulls his towel around him tighter, dropping slowly to his knees as he reaches a hand under his bed. He pulls out two of the bags, then the third, then the fourth. 

Swirls of patters and colors look up at him, begging to be touched,  _worn._ Yoongi's hands pick and prod at each article of clothing. He could go for a suave navy blue or rather, an envious shade of olive green. The blue sings a sad song of loss while the green, emits a glowering mood of voluptuous temptation that gives Yoongi the feeling of stardom.

Ruby however, catches his cat-like eye. 

He pulls out a single [bodysuit](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/263249540704488720/), a bloodthirsty red so saturated it's a pain to look at full on, like staring directly into the sun on a hot, summers day. 

Yoongi is smitten. 

The bodysuit tells a story of violence. Pleasant, scarring harm upon beautiful, delicate, undeserving flesh. A man who housed delicate charms and yet, had a keen eye that could spoil anyone's good time. 

Yoongi dries off before he slides it past his pale legs, the feeling of the lace grazing his skin making him shiver deliciously, pulling the straps over his bony shoulders as he revels in the feeling of safety, security. 

Damn Kim Taehyung to hell for making Yoongi feel like this. 

Damn Kim Taehyung for making him feel so  _sexy._

Yoongi puts on the suit, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth as he stands on two, shaky legs. He finds a pair of black, Gucci [loafers](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/486599934723324672/) to wear within one of the bags, as well as a gold [choker ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/99360735515207398/)that resembled threaded vines around Yoongi's neck. The shoes fit perfectly around his slender feet, and he wonders how anyone knew of his shoe size. He also wonders where the choker even came from. He didn't see one like it in the store but, he also wasn't in there for a long time. 

He styles his hair the best he can without any products, a somewhat soft looking floof of black sitting atop his head. He isn't satisfied with it but, he isn't trying to impress anyone in specific now is he.

Yoongi goes downstairs, surprised to see more than the few familiar faces that he has become accustomed to. Men of various shapes and sizes stand in pods around the living space, groups of twos and fours. Despite their differences in body types, they all look like carbon copies of one another.

Yoongi goes unnoticed by most, save for who he remembers as Jimin and Jungkook.

"You clean up nicely Yoongi-ssi." Jimin says with a curt nod and a very cool smile. Yoongi guesses it's a compliment, even though it feels backhanded. He isn't the one that picked the suit so, he would hope that he wouldn't be set off on purpose to look like a complete and total fool. 

Yoongi always looks nice when he's not held against his will. 

"Thank... you." He mumbles back, making a hasty retreat to the dining room where a few more men are standing about, pastries in hand. Silver platters filled with delicious treats are aligned on the dining table. Yoongi's stomach grumbles hungrily as he eyes the breakfast items, wanting to stuff some of them into his pockets. He feels a hand on his shoulder that makes him jump with an undignified yelp. 

He turns to find the doctor, Seokjin, with his hands up in surrender, a smile playing at his plump lips. "I didn't mean to frighten you Yoongi-ssi but, please, take as many as you like. You should eat before you leave." He advises. Yoongi gulps with a nod, the words calming his nerves slightly as his stomach begins to agree loudly with the doctor. Someone clears their throat. 

"But make it quick. Prince Kim will be down in a moment and he wants to leave as soon as possible so that we are early." Namjoon says as he bites into his own slice of watermelon. Seokjin snorts with a roll of his eyes. 

"Let the boy eat Namjoon-ah. You know Taehyung always says that but ends up taking hours just to pick a single outfit. He takes _'fashionably late'_ to the extreme." 

"Taehyung does  _what_ now?" That deep voice, the one that makes Yoongi shiver, questions. It almost makes Yoongi drop his yakgwa. 

Prince Kim trots down the stairs looking like just that, a  _Prince._ He is without his signature headband, his hair neatly parted at the right and quaffed over to his left, curling over his eyebrow and adding even more mystery to his ominous, superior form. His suit is matte, black and fitted to perfection as the waistline curves inward, his synched waist making the man seem even taller and more dignified than before. A single earring dangles from his left earlobe, the other ear pierced a few times on its helix. His brows are arched madly and yet, a small smile plays at his lips, curling beautifully into a slight smirk that makes Seokjin groan and Yoongi feel confused.

"You heard me you handsome son-of-a-bitch. Don't think you're sexier than me." Seokjin warns with a pointed finger. 

Prince Kim throws his head back with a cackle. " _Please_ hyung, you know no one can be prettier than you." He retorts condescendingly, the taunting and teasing hue of his voice melodic and quite pleasant to Yoongi's eardrums. Seokjin faux gasps with a quiet chuckle. Namjoon chews his watermelon, unfazed by the exchange until Prince Kim bites a huge chunk into his watermelon without stopping in his path to the kitchen. The man is immediately dumbfounded, lips parted shock. 

Yoongi chokes on his cookie. 

Prince Kim's cheeks are chubby as he chews up the fruit, his eyes closed in delight and with joy in the fact that he caught the man by surprise. Yoongi can not believe his eyes.

His captor is literally a child. 

" _Jesus_ Christ." Namjoon mutters before walking to the table to grab him another slice of watermelon, throwing away the little piece he has left. 

Yoongi feels out of place in this fucked up world of gangsters who steal watermelons and fight about who is the prettiest of them all. 

Prince Kim halts, right in front of Yoongi, gleeful expression replaced with one of calculation. His almond shaped eyes travel up and down his suit clad form, gaze lingering for far too long to be normal on the choker around his neck. Yoongi's cheeks are aflame, sprouting a pastel shade of pink. He feels like a small child that had snuck into his father's closet when he wasn't home, drowning in oversized clothes fit for, a man.

Not a boy. 

Not a boy like Min Yoongi. 

A boy who was ugly,  _worthless._

"Taemin did well with the tailoring of this suit." The sentence is loaded, as if there is something else that he wants to tack onto the end of it but, he doesn't. "Jimin." Taehyung calls out, the shorter, auburn haired man coming forward quickly.

"Yes Prince Kim?" 

"Send Mr. Lee my regards. He has my thanks for the making of this suit." He requests before grabbing himself an apple as well as a tostu.

Jimin nods. "Of course Prince Kim." He says before pulling out his smartphone, leaving the room as he holds up the phone to his ear.

Did Yoongi hear this man right?

Did he have this suit tailored just for  _him._

Yoongi's stomach wriggles, the breakfast sitting undigested in his stomach and making him squirm uncomfortably. His heart has found home in the base of his throat, making it hard to swallow without the feeling of needles prickling and crackling like flames as they travel down his esophagus. 

"Do you like it?" Yoongi whips around.

"What?"

"Do you like it. The suit." Prince Kim asks, his eyes not reaping of death or rage. The look hits Yoongi in a way that makes his chest feel warm, his heart full. The man is genuinely asking if whether or not Yoongi likes the suit or not, as if Yoongi could say no to such kind, prying eyes. 

Since when did Prince Kim become  _kind._

"Yes I do. It's... it's very nice." He mumbles, pouted lips murmuring his sound as he avoids the Prince's gaze. He toys with his fingers, the cuffs on his wrists wrinkled and strewn improperly. He had completely forgotten about his cuffs. 

He hears Prince Kim scoff. "Jimin can you..." Upon remembering that the young man is still on the phone, he sighs reluctantly, "... never mind." He grits before walking into Yoongi's space without another word. He swipes up Yoongi's wrists, flattening out the sleeves and pulling down his cuffs, not in the least bit rough or hasty. He handles the sequined cloth with care and respect, and from this close Yoongi can count almost every lash that fans above Prince Kim's chiseled, tan cheeks, cheeks that still manage so look soft. The man has no pores it seems, every inch of his skin smooth and without scars, despite the few moles that litter here and there in the most delicate of places. 

Yoongi looks downward, medieval script of hangul tattooed upon the curves of the man's honey kissed, elongated fingers. 

 _V A N T É ,_ together, the letters spell out one by one. Yoongi has never noticed them before. He wonders if there is more ink to be discovered upon the sullen, villainous man before him.

Yoongi didn't realize that he had been holding his breath this entire time. 

"There is no room for mistakes with were are headed." He looks up into Yoongi's eyes, or rather,  _down,_ considering their difference in height. Yoongi feels the sudden need to slap him. "We need to be untouchable,  _all of us,_ including you, Yoongi-ssi, even if you aren't." He says, eyes lingering on Yoongi's puffy cheeks and parted lips a bit longer than necessary. 

Prince Kim coughs, stepping back just as Jimin comes into the room, hand held high as he gestures to his phone. 

"Mr. Lee appreciates the sentiment. He said that if you need anything, to never hesitate to ask." 

Prince Kim gives a single nod, about to respond before his eyes land on the black, fluffy mop of hair upon Yoongi's head. He sighs. 

"Jimin  _please_ do something with his hair before we leave. Namjoon, it's time to go." Prince Kim concludes before walking towards the elevator without another word. The man with the glasses nods before sending a look in Seokjin's direction. Yoongi watches cautiously as Seokjin stares right back, his look unable to be deciphered. 

Namjoon follows Prince Kim into the elevator, Seokjin sighing softly before he makes his way to the staircase.

Jimin walks over, lips pursed in thought as he examines Yoongi's tuft of unruly hair. He exhales before pulling at a strand of Yoongi's hair, to which, the other gasps. 

"Ouch." He mutters. Jimin smiles giddily and, the sight is almost cute enough to coo. 

"Here, sit." He pulls up a stool for Yoongi to sit upon to which, he does. 

"Your hair is quite thin Yoongi-ssi. Do you dye it often?" He asks. Yoongi shrugs, not really feeling in the mood for lighthearted conversation with wherever they are going. 

"Sometimes... I don't, I try  _not_ to do it often but, I don't know. I like to change things." Yoongi feels as if he is oversharing but, if Jimin feels the same, he doesn't comment anything of the sort. 

"I understand. Sometimes you're not happy with yourself so, you feel the need to try to  _fix_ something when, there isn't really much to fix." Jimin talks as if he speaks from experience, and the tone of his voice is blue, sorrowful. 

Like he gets it, like, he  _really_ gets it.

"Yeah that... _yeah_." Yoongi exhales deeply as the curls of his black hair are manipulated and combed through. 

Jimin hums, trying to picture exactly what he wants to do with the full head of hair beneath his small hands. 

"How is your skin Yoongi-ssi?" 

Yoongi tilts his head a slight degree. "My skin?" 

"Yes. Do you wear makeup? Or does it break you out." 

Yoongi chews the inside of his cheek. "I would wear it... sometimes." 

Yoongi thinks he hears Jimin actually giggle, and  _that,_ scares the fuck out of him. 

"You might want to get comfortable. This is going to take a minute." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Even with the windows rolled down, the car is muggy and almost unbearable to breathe in. 

Yoongi's breaths are pained and forced. He wants to fan himself with hands but he can barely lift his arms, the weight of them too heavy and the air too thick. 

He hasn't seen the butt of a gun yet but, he knows that they are there. He knows that they _all_ have one. 

Even the kid, fucking Jungkook.

The car stops, the men exchanging a few gruff words with one another before the doors open. Taehyung comes around to the back of the car, an entirely different man now. Different from the man that fixed his cuffs. Different from the man that stole a chunk of watermelon from Namjoon. 

He is Prince Kim, a venomous, coldblooded killer and criminal.

A monster.

"You come to the center of the group beside me. Keep your eyes down. Do  _not_ speak." Prince Kim hisses through clenched teeth. Yoongi nods without hesitation, the fear of even  _thinking_ of disobeying is enough to make Yoongi want to vomit. 

He hops out of the car, waiting by Prince Kim's side as he is surrounded by Namjoon, Jimin, Jungkook, and about six other men whom Yoongi know nothing about. 

They walk as one, steps crisp and in sync. A unit composed of suits and guns. Yoongi struggles to keep up, despite the fact that he is in the center of the circle, despite damn near being unseen with how gargantuan these men are.

Yoongi looks to his right, the sun sinking beneath the horizon and disappearing into the ocean, the moon taking it's place with a sad, dismal light. 

Yoongi only hopes that this isn't the last time he gets to see the moon. The sun never stood for something good. 

A mere boy is standing by the door, obviously positioned to keep a lookout, despite how much he is shaking. 

Just a life that could be sacrificed in case the wrong people show up. 

Prince Kim looks the boy up and down, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a stack of currency. 

"What's your name?" Prince Kim asks, the lull of his voice suddenly sweet, like sugared strawberries. He thumbs through the cash as he waits patiently for a response.

The boy flinches as if he had been hit. "Y-Yeonjun." 

Prince Kim nods. "Okay Yeonjun-ssi," He greets before lowering himself on his knees slightly, to meet the boy's eyes, "go find you something to eat. One of my men will take your place until you return, _if_ you decide to return." He says, holding out the money. The boy has wide eyes, the words finally registering in his brain. He only had to return  _if_ he decided to.

This was his way out.

"T-Thank you,  _thank you_ Sir." The boy sputters, grabbing the cash and making a run for it. 

Yoongi watches the exchange with a raging heart. 

"You know that boy won't come back, right?" Namjoon questions. Taehyung tsk's. 

"If he does, he's a fool." Taehyung retorts as one of the men opens the door for them. 

The building is home to a dining establishment, one that isn't open yet and not really the cleanest of places. Waiters and waitresses sweep and mop, wiping down the tables with damp rags as the ringing of silverware emanates throughout the pace. 

Prince Kim stops walking, his head turning to the left and right as he surveys the room. 

"Prince Kim!" An older, heavyset man wobbles over, his hands out in an invitation to shake. The men around both him and Yoongi close in without warning, causing Yoongi to gasp. Prince Kim holds up a hand. 

"It's fine. Hello Mr. Kang. It is good to see you again." He says, shaking the old man's hand. 

The old man, now known as Mr. Kang, nods. "You as well. We have all of you set up very nicely upstairs. If there is anything that you need, please do not hesitate to ask." He says with a bowed head. 

Prince Kim nods curtly. "Of course." 

The surrounding men lead the way, Prince Kim and Yoongi being swept up the grand staircase and into a room that doesn't seem to be available to the general public when the restaurant is open for business. 

"Try not to kill Kai this time, please and thank you." Namjoon quips. Prince Kim scoffs as Jungkook fails to hold back a disgusting sounding snort. 

" _I_ don't remember being the one that pulled the knife thank you very much." 

"You called him a whore." 

"Was I _wrong?"_

"Taehyung I swear on your life―" 

"Why must we swear on  _my_ life. This makes no sense." 

"Taehyung stop with the excessive head moving. You're ruining your hair." 

" _Jimin_ the  _Prince_ here has more pressing matters to attend to than his hairdo." 

Yoongi feels as though he is watching a reality tv show right about now. If mob wives were Korean and men, then this would be it. That would be what this is, right here. 

The door opens, revealing a banquet hall of sorts. Nearly every seat at the table is filled. Gorgeous women wearing snug designer dresses and diamond necklaces, dangerous looking men clothed in tight dark suits, embroidered with gold and laced with pocket chains. 

Conversation is haughty and prideful, the voices in the room thick and bright, high and mighty. 

Yoongi has never felt so much hate in his heart. 

And even though Yoongi is dressed the part he feels more out of place than ever. 

The delicious smell of food wafts through the room, making Yoongi almost queasy with unease, the amount and status of the people in the room stifling to say the least.

Have all of these people taken a life? 

If so, how many? 

_Who?_

"Ah, Tae-ah! Good to see you my brother." A devilishly handsome man greets. His hair is tinted a bright orange, his dimples as deep as caverns, his face chiseled by the gods. He is tall and broad, his teeth gleaming in delight. 

"Jooheon-hyung, where is Jongin. I need to see him." Taehyung asks, not sparing the man a firm glance.

The young man now known as Jooheon tilts his head inquisitively, a playful smile on his face as he swirls his drink in the other hand with question. 

"Ready to begin I see. Well, he is at the head of the table, you know, the bastard always needing to be in charge of something." The man's eyes land on Yoongi who, swallows, avoiding his gaze at all costs, just like he was told to do.

And Yoongi is mad, that he actually feels the need to follow through with Prince Kim's orders but he doesn't seem to have any other choice, as he would rather live to see the moon rise once again.

"Who might this be Taehyungie? I recognize the rest of your crew but... I don't seem to know this one." The bastard says, and Yoongi wants to call him out, for being disrespectful. For talking _around_ him, about him as if he is a dog with a muzzle, one that can not speak for himself. 

Prince Kim hums, face contorted into a slight frown. "Now you know I don't answer such questions Jooheony." He retorts slyly, voice thick with demure. 

Jooheon rolls his eyes. "Of course you don't. I thought you would have forgotten about such semantics a long time ago." 

Prince Kim shakes his head. "Not when they put my people in danger. How would you feel if I asked about Minhyuk-hyung?" 

Jooheon snorts. "I would tell you that the sex is great and ask if you wanted to know the details. The man seems soft on the outside but in the bedroom? _Fuck._ " He laughs. 

"And  _that_ is where this conversation ends. Nice to see you again Jooheon but we must be on our way." Namjoon concludes briskly as he takes ahold of Taehyung's arm who, looks as if he is on the brink of losing his shit. At that point, too many things happen at once for Yoongi to count. Jungkook is choking on his spit, Jimin's cheeks are flushed as he smiles to himself almost sadistically, and Namjoon is just fucking annoyed, looking like a wrangler of children rather than someone Yoongi should be deathly afraid of.

And Yoongi would be amused except, he can't get his mind off of the fact that Taehyung referred to him as  _his._

The thought should be terrifying, and it is but, for the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel in danger. He doesn't feel as if his last breath is coming soon and he doesn't feel the need to cower or hide. 

It's almost as if the man was insinuating that Yoongi was  _safe_ with him. 

And Yoongi has never felt safe, not even in his own home. 

They walk, past the people sitting by who are suddenly quiet as soon as their eyes land on Taehyung. Yoongi feels warm all over. His heart is racing and his body is jittery with unsettled nerves. He feels a bead of sweat begin to form on his brow as he walks at Taehyung's side, the man seeming to tower above him, looking taller than the others even though this is most certainly not true. 

Yoongi is about to wipe at his forehead before his sleeve is harshly tugged downward. 

"Do  _not_ touch your face. You stand completely still. Don't bring any unnecessary attention to yourself but most importantly,  _do not_ mess up your makeup." Jimin damn near growls in his ear. Yoongi makes a mental note to never cross Jimin's word,  _ever._

A man at the head of the table comes into view. He is sitting, talking to a beautiful young woman with a round face and hooded eyes, wearing a fitted purple gown. Her black hair pulled tightly into a low ponytail. She resembles a perfect looking doll, one of fine china. The man's gaze on her is confound to say the least. 

The man has hair that is shaved at the sides, his suit obnoxiously pulled open as well as his dress shirt, revealing a tan glossy chest with a scar creeping up from somewhere unknown. A chain hangs low, sparkling around his neck and catching the light sharply. His facial features are deadly, a cut lined straight through his right eyebrow. His nose is long and pointed, sloped downward towards a pair of perfect, almost red looking lips. 

He smiles up at Taehyung and Yoongi feels as if he's been gutted like a fish. 

"My Taehyungie, I've missed you." The man stands, pulling Taehyung in for a long hug. The men at their sides allow it to happen, however they watch on carefully, hands near their holsters. 

"Jongin." Taehyung greets. The man exhales a harsh breath through his nostrils, expression completely blank before he forces on a smile. 

"Taehyung, I know that  _you_ know it has been Kai for years, when will you remember this?"

"Oh trust me, I remember, I just don't feel the need to call you that." Taehyung bites back, not giving anyone room to breathe let alone  _think._

Namjoon clears his throat awkwardly, a warning for their leader in black. 

So,  _this_ is Kai. 

Kai sighs with a sad smile that speaks more volumes than one. He looks to Namjoon. "It is always good to see you Namjoon-ssi. As well as you, Gguk, Jimin-ssi and..." His lethal gaze fallen upon Yoongi's swooped black hair and chubby pink cheeks. "Who may this be?" 

The man's venomous gaze stays on Yoongi with a ferocious tenacity that has the shorter man shrinking away with a quiet gasp. That look makes Yoongi feel sick, his skin crawling, his heartbeat irregular and his nerves eating him from the inside out. 

Kai smiles, a pointed tooth peeking out from between his pretty lips. "He's pretty Taehyungie. Where did you find him?" 

Taehyung crosses in front of Yoongi so fast all he registers is a blur in his line of sight. "I don't think we came here to discuss such personal matters. We came here to start shit and argue, like every year right? Let's get started so we can all go home and drink till we forget this ever happened." Taehyung hisses between clenched teeth. Kai seems to get a kick out of the heated exchange, his eyebrows drawing up, as does the corner of his red lips. 

" _Ooh_ , I've hit a nerve I see, but yes. You are right. Let's get down to business so that we can go home and...  _forget,_ something that you are  _very_ good at might I add, Kim Taehyuung-ssi." Kai tilts his head, getting one more peek at Yoongi who, is cowering behind Taehyung as much as he can. Blood pools at his cheeks and his pulse is so harsh beneath his wrists that it makes Yoongi want to scream in terror. 

Taehyung huffs with an amused look on his face, poking a tongue into the inside of his cheek in hilarity. 

"Yes of course, ah, and  _Jongin?"_ Said man snarls upon being called something that he would rather not be. 

 

 

"Speak to him again and I will surely clip a bullet through your brain, right here, right now."

 

 

"I'm tired of your men in my clubs Jaebeom-ssi, harassing my dancers and being cheap when it comes to payment." Sunmi glowers with a hand upon her hip, her lipstick so red it looks as if she has blood in her cup rather than wine. 

Jaebeom laughs with a helpless shrug, his anxiety clear in the way his hands tremble slightly. 

"What they do outside of work has nothing to do with me noona." He plays off as coyly as he can but, nearly everyone rolls their eyes at the remark. 

"It has everything to do with you, you  _fucking―"_

" _Chungha,_ that's enough. Jaebeom, stop being such a prick." Jackson interrupts before he turns bows deeply. "Sunmi-noona, Chungha-noona, and Jieun-noona, we are deeply sorry. It won't happen again." 

Chunga doesn't seem to impressed, and Jieun, although quiet, is suspicious, but Sunmi accepts the apology with the purse of her lips and a crinkle in her brow. 

"It better not." She adds as she sits back down in her seat. 

Taehyung throws back his head with a nearly inaudible groan. "Is this all that this is? Has it always been like this? Grown ass men and women throwing tantrums and arguing over petty shit like children." He complains to Namjoon who, still has his eyes on whoever is talking. It is now Ahn Hyejin who, is saying something about how some of her call girls have been mysteriously disappearing. 

"We're almost done here. Just... stay quiet Tae. Don't say shit." 

"Of course  _I_ am the one that has to keep quiet when everyone else can run off at the mouth." He mutters, lips perked in a way that makes him look like a petulant child. It almost makes Yoongi want to smile. 

Almost. 

He _is_ in a room full of murderers, as well as drug kings and queens. 

"Do you have something to say, Taehyung-ssi?" Jongin or rather, Kai, says, calling attention to the group on the other side of the table. 

Yoongi starts to shake. 

"If I did I would have said it." Taehyung retorts with no remorse. Kai laughs. 

"Well I hear you whispering something while others are talking and if there is a problem, you should voice it, should you not?" 

Taehyung's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring as he tries to keep his breathing under control. Namjoon digs his nails into Taehyung's knee. 

"Tae―"

"Like I  _said,_ if I have something to say I will say it." 

Kai hums in acknowledgment, nodding his head before he looks to the man next to him, a sparkle in his eyes that says he knows far more than what he lets on. 

"Minseok, tell me, what was it that you were saying about Taehyung-ssi?" 

The dark haired man with the heart shaped face begins to smirk. 

Yoongi's stomach churns. 

"You're being played." He says, and an eerie, deadly silence encases the room with its wrath. 

And Prince Kim, for the first time that Yoongi has seen, is two steps behind. 

Taehyung intakes a shrill breath, his brows furrowing and his eyes fading into a bleak shade of black. "How did you―"

"Someone has been cutting into your kilos and in turn, you're losing out on  _millions,_ am I right? Or am I right." Minseok settles on with a scowl. 

Yoongi begins to shiver, his insides growing bilious and the air that surrounds him turning stale. 

"How  _dare_ you―"

"Is it true Taehyung-ssi?" 

"I don't have to tell you―"

"Just answer the question  _Taehyungie_." Kai cuts across his sentence. The tension in the banquet hall is unlike before. Now, it is so thick it's hard to  _breathe._

"I need to go to the bathroom." Yoongi harshly whispers in Jimin's direction, just needing a reason to get out of the room before he is caught in the crossfire of something tragic. 

Jimin's jaw swivels. "Why is it that you always have to piss at the most inopportune times." He grits. Yoongi intakes a shrill, unsteady breath. 

" _Please."_ He begs, turning to face Jimin with panicked eyes. His pleading look is one of pain and strife, one that is deathly afraid of what is to come. 

Yoongi knew he was going to die, but  _this,_ wasn't it.

Jimin sighs harshly in aggravation before leaning forward. "Fine, but I'm coming with you so you better make it quick." He spits before making to stand, Yoongi following his lead. 

Jimin takes a few quick turns before the bathroom is in sight. 

Yoongi runs inside, saliva pooling in his mouth and his throat on fire. And as sick and as terrified as he feels, he knows nothing is going to come up. 

He just needs to be away from Taehyung. 

The bathroom is large and seemingly barren. Yoongi has to turn a corner just to see the stalls and when he does, he gasps, a faucet running in the distance. 

"So when does he want this done?" An apprehensive, airy-toned voice asks. A deeper voice follows. 

"Once this shit-show is over. We pull up out back when they're leavin', S.O.S." 

The other man hums, the faucet squeaking as the water is turned off.

"What does Kim even have to do with this?" He asks. 

Yoongi's heart stops beating. 

"Everything, he has  _everything_ to do with this." 

 

Yoongi runs out of the bathroom, nearly ramming into Jimin as he does so. 

" _Shit,_ what is wrong with you?" He asks before gripping Yoongi's arms and holding him still.

But Yoongi ignores him, his heart pounding beneath the skin of his chest and making him delirious. The blood rushing through his veins makes him burn from the inside out. His cheeks are aflame, the knowledge of what he's just heard hitting him full force and making it difficult to see straight. 

Yoongi knows what SOS means.

He’s heard Hoseok say it before.

_"Yoongi."_

Yoongi doesn't look back, he  _can't._

He needs to find Taehyung. 

The man he has been looking for comes into view and he is  _fuming._ His face is contorted into one of pure rage, the look of a killer ready to slay in cold blood. 

But in that brief moment of clarity, one thing is for sure.

Prince Kim looks _beautiful_. 

Yoongi drops into his seat, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the room. 

 _"Taehyung."_ He whispers in a panicked state, his eyes just now beginning to water, his throat irrevocably tight. Prince Kim whips his head in the other's direction, his gaze still full of fury but, more taken aback at the fact that Yoongi has decided to speak out against his will,  _as well as_ call him by his name. 

"Yoongi  _what_ did I tell you―"

"We have to go Taehyung they're planning to hurt you after―"

" _What_ is the meaning of this?!" Namjoon breaks into the conversation, eyebrows drawn in tightly. Yoongi doesn't even acknowledge him as he takes ahold of Taehyung's hand, the man in question growing wide eyes as he looks down at their now intertwined hands. There isn't even time to register the change of color in his tan cheeks. 

"We have to _go_ Taehyung―"

"Yoongi I  _told you―"_

_"Taehyung."_

Kai's chair screeches as he stands up, anger painting his face in the most gruesome of ways. 

"How can you  _lead_ us when you can't even manage your own fucking deals correctly? Your father dying was a fucking  _mistake,_ not because anyone gave a shit about him when he was alive, but because  _you_ were the one that had to take over for him when he died and you can't even do  _that_ right. Now you've found some little toy to fuck in the meantime when there are more important matters at hand, but you're too fucking immature to even think about someone else besides _yourself_." 

 

 

Yoongi's mother always told him that if he saw the other kids doing something bad at school, to walk the other way. She told him that he needed to mind his own business in order to get ahead. That if other people are doing things that they aren't supposed to do, that he needs to  _stay out of it._ Put up his blinders, be complacent, strive to be better by helping no one but yourself. 

She taught him how to be a bystander. 

 

And right now, as time almost seems to stop, and as Prince Kim seems to be at his wits end, Yoongi's heart has the answer. 

He can't just sit back and watch this time. 

The world is still on its axis as all eyes are on Prince Kim, his expression abnormally blank, his skin a ghostly pale in contrast to his usual, honey-kissed color. 

Two men approach, coming from the direction of the bathroom, and Yoongi is the only one to notice their appearance, everyone else too terror-stricken at the scene before them to even move. 

And Yoongi knows that Prince Kim forbade him from speaking. 

He _knows_. 

And one day, he hopes that Hoseok can forgive him for what he's about to do, and maybe,  _just_ maybe, they will cross paths again, even if it is in another life.

"Them, it's them." Yoongi says aloud, shattering the silence and pointing towards the two men that have just made their way into the room. 

Prince Kim still has his eyes set on Kai for a moment, before he turns to look at Yoongi who, can't tear his eyes away from the two men at the far corner of the room. Unbeknownst to Yoongi, the look is no longer one of crossness, rather, one of a burning curiosity that is desperate to be met.

Namjoon clears his throat. "What about them Yoongi-ssi?" He asks, and for the first time, his voice is calm in reference to Yoongi. He is not curt and he is not sharp. His voice is patient,  _caring_ even. 

Yoongi turns to glance at the man before he swallows. "They plan on killing Taehyung." He says. 

Chairs screech and silverware is displaced, all bodies in the room shifting in the room towards the two men, Chanyeol and Sehun. 

Seulgi is the first to speak. "An ambush, how  _disgusting_ Jongin." 

Kai's face burns red, steam practically pouring from his ears. Chanyeol and Sehun freeze in place before their feet amend, their directions swiftly changing as they try to make a run for it. 

It's too late. 

Because both Taehyung  _and_ Namjoon have their guns drawn, bullets piercing the air before the two men fall to the floor with sickening  _thumps,_ blood pooling around their bodies and seeping into the carpet. 

Yoongi didn't realize he had been screaming until his throat turned raw.

Metal clicks, the air in the room is altered to fit the amount of weapons drawn from both sides of the table. Yoongi allows his tears to fall, not having the courage to hold them back any longer. 

Because this is really it. 

This is  _really it._

"Your fucking toy has more of a brain than you do Taehyungie." Kai teases, eyes mad with insanity. His face is glistening with sweat, all of his men at his sides with their guns pointed towards Taehyung. 

Jungkook had jumped in front of Yoongi, his finger nowhere near the trigger, despite the gun being clamped tightly in his fist. 

He's shaking. 

Taehyung snarls. "You made an enemy out of the wrong one Jongin." 

" _Fucking shoot me_ then goddamn piece of  _shit."_ Kai eggs on, his voice incredibly high pitched and triggered with a nervous, manic energy. He's willing to die, as long as he can see Taehyung die first. 

"We're leaving Kai." Namjoon snaps, his gun still drawn, finger dead on the trigger. One of Kai's men makes to move forward before a gun is dug into his skull. 

"Uh uh," Rosé pushes the butt of the gun into the man's hair, "you started this Kai. Let them leave peacefully." She says, manicured nails sticking out clearly against the black steel of her carryon. 

"You heard what the fuck she said." Says Jennie who, has both of her guns pointed at both Kai  _and_ Taehyung. 

When no one shows any signs of moving, Jimin hoists Yoongi up hastily. "Let's go,  _now."_ He bites as he pushes Yoongi out the door and down the staircase, Jungkook right behind them with his gun facing anyone in the room who decides to make a wrong move. 

Yoongi's vision is blurry with tears, his life in the hands of so many people besides his own scaring him to the point of traumatism. 

He is ushered into the backseat of the car, the hands on his back now numb as both Namjoon and Taehyung make it to the vehicle. 

Taehyung looks... done. His eyes are hooded, his brows furrowed, the crinkles in his face making him appear far older than what he actually is. 

He looks betrayed. 

Namjoon doesn't waste any time. He drives off, the tires screeching as more tears spill from Yoongi's eyes, dribbling down his chin and making it harder to sob quietly in the backseat. He was asked to do  _one simple thing,_ and he couldn't even do that right. 

Time to kiss Hoseok goodbye, for good. 

His lace offers him no solace. There is no safety net there, underneath his sequin suit, beneath his silk blouse. 

Yoongi can only come so close to death before he gets the job done himself. 

Yoongi sniffles, reaching his hand up to wipe his rotund nose before a slender hand comes into view, one holding a napkin. 

He looks up, Taehyung still holding out the napkin with all the patience in the world but, his eyes are still on the road, just like he had done when they first met. 

And Yoongi accepts it graciously but, quietly, wiping his face of the sweat, tears and snot that lay rest to his chubby features. 

And as they head back to whence they came, Yoongi can't help but to stare at the moon. 

 

At least he got his wish. 

 

A least he was able to see it one last time. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yoongi can't sleep.

 

He didn't think he would be able to but, he can't even  _feel_ the syrupy sensation of exhaustion, hanging heavy in his bones and dragging him beneath the covers. 

His suit has long been discarded, thrown into his closet, probably to never be worn again. Yoongi lies in his bed, tracing the see-through roses of his bodysuits in a dream-like haze. He stopped crying a while ago but, his cheeks are still red and raw from the constant rubbing, his nose stuffy and the light in his eyes dim from the waterworks. 

One of his knees is bent, the covers pushed aside as he allows the warm air of the room to seep into his skin, forcing him to be drowsy but, not enough to succumb to sleep quite yet. 

One hand rests on his tummy, the other now pulling at the threading near his bottom. He closes his eyes, exhaling deeply as he allows his cold, shaky hand to smooth down his thigh, biting his lip as his hand travels down, further and further. 

Closer and  _closer._

There is a knock at the door. 

Yoongi bolts upward, looking at the clock. It is nearly 3 in the morning, and no one in their right mind would still be up this late, let alone knocking on his door. 

Well, besides Yoongi of course. 

He stands, hurrying to open the door so that he could tell his intruder to leave so that he could get back to, whatever the hell it was he was doing. 

He opens the door, ready to speak when suddenly, the air hits him in all the wrong places, causing him to shudder from the cold. 

He doesn't have on any clothes. 

And Taehyung is standing in his doorway.

The man's lips parted to speak when, he stops abruptly, his eyes wandering over Yoongi's scantily clad form. His eyebrows raised slightly, eyes wide in surprise. His tan cheeks are pooled with blood just beneath the surface. Shaking himself out of his stupor before turning his eyes to the floor. 

Yoongi is downright  _humiliated._

"I...  _shit_ I... Yoongi-ssi I was..." He stutters, and Yoongi considered hiding his body behind the door for a moment but, it's kind of too late for that, and Taehyung smells so fucking sweet, his usual cedar wood and cinnamon scent embracing Yoongi in a toasty hug. 

But there's something else there too, something tangy and sour yet, just as sweet. 

Taehyung smells of alcohol, soju to be exact. 

"I was just... I was coming to..." Taehyung exhales sharply, licking his chapped lips as he shakes his head, a feeble attempt to jumble his thoughts back into place. Yoongi's eyes catch every move, every gesture,  _every action._

Including the way the man licks his lips. 

"You... you saved my life..." Taehyung says, darkly. The words are fueled with something so deep, too deep for Yoongi to name, and it infiltrates his senses with something so powerful that Yoongi just,  _has to have it._ He has to have these words, he is desperate for them, desperate for approval and love and affection. 

Because lace can only do so much. 

"I didn't... I just... I only heard what they said and... I had to say...  _something..."_ Yoongi whispers, the sight of Taehyung's gorgeous face dimly lit beneath the moonlight doing things to his heart that makes his entire body tingle with need. 

And despite the fear that Taehyung has always evoked into Yoongi's heart, the man has always been beautiful in his eyes,  _beyond_ beautiful. And the fact that this killer this...  _monster,_ is standing in the doorway of his room, eyeing him as he is barely dressed, thanking him for saving  _his_ life, it strokes Yoongi's ego in all the best ways. 

And Yoongi is just plain ravenous and fucking  _touch starved._

Not to mention the fact that he has almost died too many times in the past week alone to count. 

So what if he just wants... _sex._ Kyungsoo back at home was a quick fix, and Hoseok? Hoseok never truly felt the same way about him that Yoongi had felt about Hoseok. Hoseok's hands were too soft, too kind to truly be ones of love, and that's okay. 

He can pretend for a night that Taehyung's hands aren't his own. 

Taehyung bites his bottom lip, his lids growing heavy as he looks Yoongi up and down, his gaze lingering for far too long on his slim legs and thighs, his body even curvier with the built in waist of the bodysuit he is wearing. 

"You saved me..." Taehyung says, his breathing quickening in pace, his hands itching at his sides to just  _touch._

Yoongi opens up the door even wider, stepping back, a silent invitation. Taehyung's hands find purchase on the curves of Yoongi's hips. 

" _You_ saved me." He says again, his voice growing even huskier than before, making Yoongi's stomach drop, a wave of heat pooling in his gut. 

"You saved  _me."_ Taehyung says as he leans in, his nose brushing against Yoongi's, his lashes threading and tickling the Yoongi's soft, pale skin, still flushed from the excitement of earlier. 

Yoongi grips Taehyung's suit clad biceps, digging his nails into the fabric there, tilting his face up, inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla husk and intoxicating soju. 

Taehyung's lips gently caress Yoongi's, their chests drawing together like magnets. 

"You  _saved_ me." Taehyung whispers against Yoongi's lips, the smaller of the two closing his eyes and tilting his head up, his breaths shallow as he just begs to finally...

_Finally..._

_"You saved me."_

Taehyung presses his lips to Yoongi's, softly at first, which is surprising considering the damage that this man has done in his life so far. But Yoongi doesn't mind it. Taehyung's lips, albeit chapped, are soft and sweet, still tasting slightly of the alcohol he had consumed earlier in the evening. Yoongi swears he can become drunk on just the soju drenched kisses alone. 

There is a pang of regret in Yoongi's heart. He knows that Taehyung is drunk and he knows that he should stop this but, now Taehyung's hands are roaming all over his bare skin, the kiss becoming deeper,  _harsher_ as Taehyung's lips part, his tongue swiping over Yoongi's bottom lip and drinking him in. 

 _Fuck_ is Yoongi going to regret this in the morning. 

But right now, he can't bring himself to care. 

He needs this,  _Prince Kim_ needs this. 

Taehyung digs his nails into Yoongi's thighs, drawing red paint strokes against the pale, smooth canvas. Yoongi is hoisted up, his legs immediately wrapping around Taehyung's waist as he is carried to the bed. They don't break the kiss not once. 

Taehyung brings Yoongi down softly on the mattress, breaking apart for only a millisecond so that he can situate himself comfortably on the bed before he dives into another fierce, bruising kiss. Yoongi's hands are splayed across Taehyung's sculpted cheeks, pulling him in close as his toes curl against the maroon duvet. 

Their lips move in perfect harmony as Yoongi shifts his hips upward, the friction becoming too much to handle. Taehyung breaks apart with a groan. He stares down at Yoongi, his eyes hungry and swimming in something so much more than just lust. 

 

_"You saved me."_

 

And Yoongi pulls him in for another heated kiss. 

 

Because those words taste so good on Prince Kim's lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAH!
> 
> What's your favorite song on the album? Dionysis is THAT BITCH. I also love Mikrokosmos or however you spell that lmao I'm kinda dumb. 
> 
> Anyway I love you all so much please follow me on twt it would mean the entire world to me!
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	7. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taehyung has secrets and Yoongi wants in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall... I updated this faster than I ever have before!
> 
> I'm still not over the comeback??? like I thought I would be but guess what??? I'm not???
> 
> Anyway please follow me on all the platforms and please don't be afraid to interact I would love to chat and talk and dm and do all the great things! Thank you guys for following this story!
> 
> TW: there is a huge lack of aftercare in this chapter and it gets pretty heated so be warned. it's nothing too bad but it is very blatant. Thank you guys again! ily!  
> enjoy!
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> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/bangtanadriella)  
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> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)

 

# 기미 - Secrets

Yoongi has never slept so good in his damn life.

Yoongi's body has sunken deep into the depths of the mattress, his soul feeling like its nearly left his body. Despite the sharp, aching pain in his lower back, all due to Taehyung's rough hands and rhythmic pulses, sleep has never come so easy to an insomniac like Min Yoongi.

But what's worse, is that Taehyung albeit tired as all hell, was not tired enough to just up and leave as soon as the task was done. 

The drug lord was far too exhausted to remove himself from beneath Yoongi's weighted, breathless form. Yoongi doesn’t know how he did it but, he somehow conjured the strength to gather his clothes, run his honey-kissed fingers through his own hair, as he made to stand.

He fucking  _leaves,_ troubled and yet, sly. 

Even so, the empty bed in which Yoongi lays in shouldn’t be as foreign as it actually is.

Yoongi pushes himself up from the bed, his hazy mind filled with the blunt digging of nails, grating and delicious, elicit moaning, harsh biting. All of last night was more than fufilling, satisfying with the sated desire that sits heavily in Yoongi’s belly.

But then Yoongi remembers how this even started.

Yoongi's body doesn't feel... in tune. It feels wrong. _All_ wrong. He feels dirty and messy and fucking _disgusting._

And Taehyung is no longer here. He left, _gone_. He took what he wanted and left Yoongi here to fend for himself, battling against thick, sticky sheets and a sweat-soaked duvet. 

And of course nothing more was said after they had begun to come down from their sex driven high. What was there even to _say?_ Everything about the night before had been driven to madness, a point of pain and strife all due to the hands of death that were close to strangling them both. 

Yoongi feels so used, fucking  _livid._ His skin is still too warm from Taehyung's touches and his heart burns with a desire to unleash his anger. 

Taehyung had sex with him and left. 

Taehyung had  _used him._

He left Yoongi to lie there, fallen asleep in the dry flakes of white and ick. Yoongi didn't even realize he had been crying until he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. 

His tears were boiling. 

Yoongi hurdles to his feet, seething with clenched teeth as he stomps to the bathroom to rid himself of Taehyung's molten touches. The hot water burns his skin, painting it red with rage as it washes away everything wrong in this world. He then comes back to the room, his patience wearing thin as he just feels the need to  _punish_ someone,  _anyone_ so that his justice can be served with temporary gratification. 

Yoongi throws on one of the robes from his bag, having  _just_ enough patience to pick the prettiest sky blue robe he can find. One with painted pink roses and aconites, a silk collar and cuffs instigating more of his anger and fueling his hatred for the man who had trapped him here. It is as if the piece of nightwear whispers to him. 

 

 _He left you,_ it says to him. 

 

_He left you there to die._

 

Yoongi treads heavily down the stairs, his skin a stranger to the sun, now washed and free of  _him._ Faces of men in suits blur by as Yoongi's brain refuses to even register their existence. He is only looking for one man. 

And there he is. 

Standing amidst a sea of suits who don't give a damn. He casually sips on his alkaline water, the tall glass in his hands dripping with condensation. 

The patter of Yoongi's pale feet don't really garner any attention. 

But the slap that he lands to Taehyung's face does. 

"Are you  _insane?!"_ Yoongi shouts, an onslaught of tears ready to spill from his eyes and drip down his cheeks in outrage. He holds them back to the best of his ability, not wanting Taehyung to notice his weakened state and attack with a newfound bravery. 

The men around Yoongi stalk forward, their hands on their guns and ready to pummel him to the ground but, he doesn't have time to even be afraid. 

Because Taehyung holds his hand up, signaling a cease in their movements. 

 _"Leave."_ He hisses and every single man in the room obeys. 

Except for Min Yoongi. 

"You must be out of your  _goddamn mind."_ Taehyung growls. He resembles a tiger on the prowl and Yoongi has never felt so ready to fight in his fucking life, despite the rising fear in his gut that feels like nausea. 

"So you  _fuck_ me, and then you push me to the side like some whore on the _street_ _?!_ I would have felt better if you fucking  _paid me_ even." Yoongi screams, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat even though the tears have long fallen. He knows that if his voice cracks, he's done for, but he's not through yet.

Yoongi is no hero, but he knows a true villain when he sees one. 

Taehyung lets out a bitter chuckle, one that is dripping with wrath. "I suggest, if you would not like to be treated like a whore, then perhaps you shouldn't act like one." He bites, barely any breath beneath his words. It is as if he does not want Yoongi to hear them but, he says it loud enough just so that he can. 

Yoongi is at a loss for words. He doesn't ever remember feeling this angry in his life but he knows not to let the bastard get away with such disparage. 

Yoongi makes to hit him again but Taehyung is quicker this time, catching his wrist and holding it tight in place. Yoongi can barely hold back a wince as he tries to snatch his hand back. 

It seems that Taehyung has other plans as the man pulls him forward swiftly, catching the smaller of the two off guard and forcing his breath to hitch. Yoongi's cheeks are flushed as he tries to meet Taehyung's firm, calamitous gaze but, he just  _can't._

Yoongi looks away shyly, his breaths rushed and his round cheeks as pink as can be. As soon as Taehyung's grip on him slackens, Yoongi snatches his hand away, flexing his fingers to stop himself from cradling his wrist that will soon be sporting a bracelet of bruises by tomorrow. 

Yoongi wipes at his nose with a sniffle, ashamed to be standing in right front of Taehyung but feeling so _beneath_ him. What is so comical, is the fact that Yoongi was not a crier. He had never been a crier until he was met with someone as iniquitous and abominable as Kim Taehyung. 

The wickedness of this man just seems to drive Yoongi to tears. 

Yoongi's bottom lip trembles as he opens his mouth to speak. "I don't fucking know how someone can be as cruel and as  _evil_ as  _you."_ Yoongi spits, his tears leave streaks as they continue to stream down his splotchy face. 

Taehyung's hands twitch, as if he's trying to stop himself from hitting Yoongi.

And Yoongi wishes this man fucking would so that he would have a reason to gouge his damn eyes out. 

Taehyung's chiseled cheek is still sporting an angry red from where Yoongi had slapped him. The sprawls of Yoongi's thin fingers paint a nice, pretty picture upon a tan, striking surface. 

And along with the burning sensation in his knuckles, Taehyung's face is deemed unreadable, despite the blackness in his eyes and the venomous arch in his brow. 

Taehyung pulls at the corners of his mouth with his fingers, wiping away the spittle still there from when Yoongi had smacked him. The drug lord tongues the inside of his cheek, appearing somehow older than before as his eyes turn even more odious. 

Yoongi crosses his arms, his eyes wide in detest. 

"Oh, so  _now_ you have nothing to say? Is  _that_ it?" Yoongi shouts brokenly, his voice cracking all over the place. Taehyung looks up at this, the tears that dribble down Yoongi's pudgy face, his cheeks burning red and his eyes indescribably sad,  _hurt._

Taehyung turns away from him, his hands trembling by his sides as he tries to steady his breaths. The man is like a ticking time bomb and with every second that passes, Yoongi finds himself more and more frightened of what Taehyung might  _do._

Yoongi can't find the strength nor the patience anymore to wait. He is scared stiff, too panic-stricken to even move let alone think about the words he has to say before they come out of his mouth. 

"Take me back to the dorms." 

Taehyung whips back around to face Yoongi.

"Ex _cuse_ _me?"_

"I  _said,_ take me back to the dorms. I want to go home and see Hoseok." 

Taehyung's face rests blankly before a sadistic smile graces his glorious features. He chuckles bitterly. 

"You don't come into  _my_ damn house and make any ultimatems at me." 

"I didn't ask to be here." 

"But you are here because of something  _you_ did."

"I fucking saved your  _life_ didn't I?! Isn't that how this gang shit works? I save your life you save mine?" Yoongi exclaims angrily. "Take. Me.  _Back."_

Taehyung huffs, clearly amused if the smirk upon his perfect lips is anything to go by. 

"I don't think you know what this is." Taehyung snarls. 

Yoongi frowns, the tears on his cheeks now dry and cold. They make his skin itch. He just wants to just burn all of his flesh away to totally  _rid_ himself of everything  _Taehyung._

"Maybe I don't but now, I wish I hadn't told you about what those men were going to do to you." Yoongi says, his voice timid but every word, purposeful and full of pain. 

Taehyung huffs, a bitter smile on his face before he bites his lip, trapping in the onslaught of venomous words. Yoongi can see that the words strike a chord with Taehyung, in all the worst ways possible.

"I'm starting to wish you hadn't either." He mumbles back, his usual stance of power now shrunken and weakened in state, but only slightly. Why Yoongi all of a sudden feels...  _bad,_ for what he had said, he has no idea. But he does, even if it is solely in the shape of a tinge around his heart. 

Yoongi takes a brisk step forward. 

“You will _never_ do that to me, ever,  _ever_ again.” He grits at Taehyung's backside. The taller man's body visibly stiffens with unease. Yoongi's words once again, hit the man _hard._ Taehyung knows exactly what he is speaking of, and he has no argument against what Yoongi has to say.

And Yoongi doesn't know whether or not Taehyung feels guilty for what he did, but he hopes he does. 

And there is something about Taehyung's crumpling resolve that tells him he just might.

"I..." Taehyung clears his throat quickly, choking back his apprehension. "I had my men check out your  _dorm._ Your friend wasn't there." 

Yoongi is surprised to say the least, at the sudden change in tone and, at the fact that Taehyung had thought to even check on his dormitory. Whether it was to  _actually_ look after Hoseok (which seems highly unlikely), or do him in, Yoongi doesn't really know.

Still, he can't fight the sense of fear that jolts his stomach upon hearing that Hoseok was no where to be found. 

Yoongi shrugs, a feeble attempt to hide his discomfort. "What if he just went out? He might have come back." 

"He didn't. I had them wait, for  _hours._ He never returned and when they went inside, some of his things had been packed." Taehyung walks over, albeit cautiously to Yoongi's barely clothed form. He hands over a slip of paper. "This was on the door." 

It's an eviction notice. 

Yoongi frowns, eyeing the paper with utter befuddlement as well as a hue annoyance. 

"That... that doesn't make sense. We had just paid the rent, how is this possible?" Yoongi asks, to no one in particular mind you. He knows that Taehyung doesn't actually have an answer but, he doesn't really know what else to say. 

"A few of his things were packed. The rest of the apartment was a total mess." Taehyung informs, his words odd and uneven, as if he is trying to find his voice again. 

Yoongi swallows down his panic. "Something isn't right. Hoseok and I... we were never behind on bills like that. And he wouldn't just skip town unless..." Yoongi's bottom lip trembles as he thinks of the possibilities. 

He drops the eviction notice to the floor. 

"You have to let me talk to him." 

Taehyung's face is blank, his lips parted and his eyes widened before his slack expression hardens, tough as flint. 

"I don't  _have_ to do anything." He bites before making to leave, and Yoongi sets his pride to the side for a moment, his love for Hoseok reigning true and proving to be more vital to his way of life.

Yoongi surges forward, taking ahold of Taehyung's wrist gently, the other hand holding his robe closed and shielding his barely clothed body. The man whips around, looking ready to lash out but, the tension in his body alleviates upon seeing Yoongi's miserable expression.

"Taehyung  _please."_ Yoongi begs, his pulse spiking at the use of Taehyung's name. No matter how many times he says it, it will always feel so foreign on his tongue. "Please let me call him. He could be in trouble. I just want to know that he's _okay._ " Yoongi damn near cries. Taehyung's wrist seems to shake in Yoongi's hold before he pulls it away slowly. The man pulls at the jacket of his suit before he makes his way towards the stairs. He stops. 

"Wait here." He says without even turning his head. He retreats upstairs, leaving Yoongi to stew in his dreadful thoughts. 

Hoseok could already be dead, somewhere in a dark forboding alley that smells of piss and garbage, bleeding out from a gunshot wound or the slice of a knife or  _worse._ He could already be trapped in the clutches of someone dastardly and maniacal. He could be wishing for the sweet release of death right now, bound in a chair connected by grating ropes that cut into his skin as men with masks beat him senseless, asking for answers to questions that Hoseok didn't even know existed. 

Yoongi wants to scream till his throat bleeds. 

Footsteps beating against a wooden staircase break Yoongi out of his bloodcurdling reverie, startling him back into his terrifying reality. 

Taehyung comes forward, a cracked phone in hand. 

It's Yoongi's.

He holds it out. "Make it quick." Is all he says. Yoongi wants to rejoice as he takes the phone from the man's surprisingly smooth hands. Yoongi dials Hoseok's number by heart, holding the phone up to his ear with trembling hands. With every ring that passes, Yoongi's heartbeat accelerates beyond belief, sending the rush of blood to his skull and making his vision swimmy. 

Someone picks up. 

_"Listen whoever the fuck this is they better―"_

"Hobi?" Yoongi calls out, his voice wavering with the force of unshed tears. A brief, moment of silence passes before he hears Hoseok begin to weep.

_"Hyung?"_

Yoongi giggles tearfully. "Yes,  _yes_ Hobi it's me." 

 _"God... God hyung is it good to hear your voice."_ He says with a fresh sense of relief that makes Yoongi cry even more.

"Hobi... Hobi where are you? Are you  _okay?"_ Yoongi asks. 

He can hear Hoseok inhale sharply.  _"I wish I could answer that."_ Hoseok cries.  _"I miss you so fucking much hyung."_

Yoongi sniffles. "I miss you too Hobi, but I need you to answer me just, tell me where you are. I can't really explain things right now but I can help you. Just  _tell me_ where you are." Yoongi asks, the color of his voice turning more red. 

Hoseok's breathing picks up, as if he had just been running a marathon.  _"I can't do that hyung. You know I can't."_

Yoongi shakes his head in dismay, although Hoseok can't see. "Yes you  _can._ Hobi let us  _help you."_

_"Us? Who the fuck is us?! No, no no no no I have to go now I can't fucking _―... I can't do this hyung I'm sorry."__

"Jung Hoseok don't you  _dare_ fucking hang up on me I swear to  _God_ just  _tell me where you are!"_

_"I love you hyung."_

The phone clicks, the tone of disconnect ringing throughout the space and making Yoongi feel sick. 

His feet nearly give out as he clutches the phone to his chest, Taehyung darting forward to catch him. Yoongi covers his mouth with his palm to imprison his cries. 

Taehyung guides him to the couch, the smaller of the two sinking into the cushions, his hand still clamped over his quivering lips. Yoongi's teeth chatter as he wipes at his face, desperately trying to clean it of salt and snot. His eyes are rimmed with red and his round nose is an angry shade of scarlet.

Taehyung is sitting beside him, his posture stiff and tall as he tries to look anywhere else besides Yoongi's crumbling form. A few minutes of silence follow Yoongi's breakdown before he intakes a shrill breath. 

"That wasn't Hoseok. That's not him he never sounds like that." Taehyung turns to him, a brow raised in question. 

"But it was him speaking." He clarifies. 

Yoongi turns to him sharply. "Taehyung he never sounds like that. He's _scared_ Taehyung I think... I think someone is after him." He says. Taehyung doesn't say anything, his expression tight and fraught. 

Yoongi stands. "We have to help him." 

Taehyung huffs with an outrageous smile, the corner of his lips drifting downwards as his eyes glower. 

"You can't be  _serious."_

"He's in _trouble_ Taehyung!" 

"And that is not  _my_ problem." Taehyung stands but, doesn't make to leave. He seems as if he is about to shift in his stance before he plants himself.  "Your friend made his bed now, let him lie in it." 

"He didn't  _choose_ this!" Yoongi nearly screams. "He's made some mistakes but he doesn't deserve to  _die_ because of them!" 

Taehyung stomps forward. "Do you  _not_ remember why you are here!? Your friend's  _mistake,_ brought you here. It's  _his_ fault that you are in this mess in the first place, am I wrong? So why the fuck do you care about what happens to him when he hasn't contacted me  _once_ to save your life?!" Taehyung argues back, and as terrifying as the man can be, Yoongi's isn't scared of him anymore. 

Because the way he touches tells a whole other story. 

"Just because he tried to save himself doesn't mean he doesn't care about me. Have you ever thought for once that maybe,  _just_ maybe he really doesn't know who took your fucking money?! What if he tried to find them but  _couldn't!_ What if he tried and _that's_ the reason why he is in trouble?!"Yoongi shouts, his voice edged with strife. Taehyung laughs. 

"You're far too trusting." Is all Taehyung says before he begins to walk away. Yoongi starts to follow, a new idea coming to mind. There is no way in hell it will work but, anything is worth a try with this man, now that he knows Taehyung won't hurt him. 

"Hoseok is smart. He can help you." 

Taehyung scoffs. " _Please,_ that man can't help me with a damn thing." 

"We could take him in. He could be just like Jimin or Jungkook! He could help you with―"

"I don't understand why you keep saying  _we._ There is no  _we_ here." 

"Hoseok is a  _good person._ He would never question you, he could―"

 _"Enough."_ Taehyung shouts, his voice echoing throughout the hall. "I will not allow you to make your friend's problems my priority. Now, what's done is done, and I cannot change that." Taehyung instills, his chest heaving before finally, he turns his back on Yoongi, walking up the staircase. 

Yoongi feels the fight within his soul dissolving into nothingness, tearing him apart and forcing him to give up. 

To give up on  _Hoseok._

But Yoongi has always been a fighter _._

"Do you remember what you said to me last night?" Yoongi asks quietly. 

Taehyung halts. Yoongi's head tilts. 

"Do you? You repeated it, over and over and over again and you told me―"

"I was drunk―"

" _And you told me,_ that I saved your life. You kept saying it, and you  _meant it._ I'm not asking you for something that you can't do. I'm not asking you to give me something out of reach I am  _simply, asking you,_ to help me find my friend,  _please."_

Taehyung's back is still turned to Yoongi, but with the way the man's shoulder's lower, with the way his grip on the railing of the staircase loosens, Yoongi knows he is getting through to the drug lord. 

"How do I know I can trust his word?" 

"You can trust mine."

"Like  _hell_ I can." 

"You trusted those men didn't you? Kai and them? They betrayed you, didn't they."

Taehyung's resolve begins to crumble to the ground, knowing that Yoongi is _more_ than on the right side of right, even if he had always strayed from the path himself. "I never trusted those bastards." 

"It doesn't matter if you did or didn't. They still tried to kill you. They _lied_ to you." 

Taehyung scoffs. "Your friend could  _never_ get the one-up on me." 

"He wouldn't want to. He would want to  _help you,_ that's just how he is." Yoongi says, meaning every word, his eyes sparkling at the mention of his best friend.

Taehyung finally turns around, walking down a few steps so that he can still tower over Yoongi with contrite. "And what if he  _does_ betray me? What if I find out all along that he had been lying to me and that indeed, he  _does_ know who's been stealing from me. What would you like for me to do then, let him go, free of charge? Let him make a _fool_ of me?" 

Yoongi's knees are ready to give out as he stands on the foot of the stairs, He knows he's going to regret the words that come out of his mouth next, but if a false promise can save the life a friend so dear, it will be worth the price. 

"Kill him. You would kill him. And if you'd like... you could kill me too." Yoongi offers in a dull, meaningless tone. 

And Taehyung seems surprised by this, with how his almond shaped eyes almost turn to circles. 

"You would give me your friend's life so easily." He asks softly. It doesn't even sound like a question, more of a statement. Yoongi nods without hesitation. 

"If he has been lying to both of us this whole time then... yes." Yoongi says.

Taehyung shakes his head with a humorless laugh. "I thought I told you I don't like liars Yoongi-ssi." 

"I'm not lying."

"But you  _are._ I know you are." Taehyung's raises his voice to a certain degree before he calms himself. Taehyung clears his throat. "Don't lie to me." Taehyung asks of Yoongi. 

And everything seems so much more personal now, the fact that Taehyung's demands are dying out, turning into something so much more... _sincere_. The thought of such a thing is cloy, as it disgusts Yoongi. This man has always meant harm, and he still  _does._

But why does Taehyung seem so different to him now?

"Whether I'm lying or not I mean what I say." Yoongi fights back, gaining strength with every useless point that Taehyung tries to make. He knows the man has no reason  _not_ to help him. "I don't want to die... but I always keep my word. If Hoseok has been lying to us this whole time then you could kill him and me too. I gave up my life to save him and... if he let me do that... knowing the truth then... he was never a real friend to begin with." 

 

So Yoongi knows he's won this round, the first of many. 

And Taehyung hums, his gaze turning to the floor. 

 

 

"I will take you up on that offer then." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yoongi does his best to relax, curled in on himself as he closes his eyes. It's far too early to be trying to sleep but, none of that matters now does it.

Dinner sits heavy in his stomach, undigested and sour. Yoongi soon finds himself on his feet, pulling out his bags from his beneath his bed and sorting through them. It is a favorite pass time of his now, organizing the lingerie based on the shades and hues of their colors. 

The reds go with the fuschias and the pinks while the blues go with the turquoise and the ceruleans. 

The thought of hanging up his clothes and putting the closets to good use  _does_ cross his mind but, that would only mean making his stay here more permanent, and Yoongi is in no way here for that.

There is a knock on the door. Yoongi stifles an annoyed sigh before he kicks his bags back beneath the bed. He stands to open the door. 

Yoongi finds that no matter how many times the man appears, he will never  _not_ be surprised. 

Taehyung stands in the hall, twiddling his thumbs, a long black t-shirt barely covering his wrists and revealing a hint of ink that cradles his veins with no remorse. His pants are dark, soft looking, and he has on a pair of white sneakers. It's the most dressed down Yoongi has ever seen the man. 

It suits him. 

He had been picking at his nails before Yoongi opened the door but upon hearing it creak open, he shoots his hands down. "I would like to come in." He states with a harsh sense of bravado that is not only forced but, kinda awkward. It almost makes Yoongi giggle. 

"Okay." He mumbles, stifling a smile and stepping back, allowing Taehyung to enter. 

Taehyung looks around the room, before meeting Yoongi's imploring eyes by mistake. His neck nearly crans downward before he sits on the bed, still avoiding Yoongi's gaze. Yoongi walks around the edge of the bed where Taehyung's legs are. He sits, the bed dipping beneath his weight and forcing their bodies to shift almost, closer. 

Taehyung takes in a breath. 

"I treated you poorly last night." He says. Yoongi looks up at him. His gaze is still on the carpet, his fingers toying with one another. 

"You did." Yoongi confirms, his voice soft and,  _forgiving._ Even if Taehyung hasn't apologized yet, he was so ready to forgive him for reasons unknown. 

Perhaps it was the fact that the man had kept him alive, offered him some sort of twisted, sadistic protection. Maybe it was the clothes beneath his bed, Yoongi doesn't know. 

But he just wasn't ready to hold a grudge yet, and goddamnit Min Yoongi could hold a fucking  _grudge._

"That... that wasn't my intention I just... I shouldn't have done that." Taehyung says, his voice almost choked and tight. Yoongi folds his legs over the duvet, his toes curling as he sits casually while Taehyung appears to be a stranger in his own home. 

"You shouldn't have." 

"And if you're angry with me then, I understand. Just because I was drunk that... that doesn't condone my actions." 

Yoongi purses his lips, the entire arrangement odd but, not unwelcome. "Well... if this is your weird ass way of apologizing then... I guess I'm not _that_ upset... anymore." 

Taehyung gives a single nod, a dead look in his eyes before he sighs. 

"I thought... I thought you didn't want to... so I left. I felt like I was using you and it made me feel disgusting, and whether I was drinking or not I didn't mean anything by it. I..." Taehyung's eyes dart to each corner of the ceiling before he finds his voice again. "I was wrong for what I did to you. And to have just left while... I don't fuckin' know I... I hurt those who hurt me first. It's what comes natural to me. You hurt who hurts _you._ But... I never meant to hurt you like that for no reason." 

Yoongi exhales deeply, knowing that he is no angel in this situation. He played a huge part, luring the man into the room, looking the way that he looked. It wasn't fair for Taehyung to take on the entire blame. 

"It's not that I didn't want to. I shouldn't have but... I just... I didn't think about what would happen after. I didn't think you would just leave. I wasn't thinking at all..." Yoongi mumbles, his lips still pouty and muffling his words a bit. Yoongi means what he says. He doesn't know what he was thinking and like he said, he probably wasn't. He just wanted all of his desires filled, and Taehyung was just  _there._ Bathing in the moonlight and looking as glorious as ever, having just trifled with death. It made the man seem all the more beautiful to Yoongi and well... Yoongi has just always been fucked up like that. 

And it seems that Taehyung is fucked up too. 

Taehyung nods once more, looking over at Yoongi who, is stilled breathless, the look in Taehyung's eyes everlasting, as well as always evolving. 

What was once a look of hatred and wrath is now so much more subdued. His gaze once poisonous now, while still heated in nature, is now warmer and...  _kinder_ even. Taehyung is frowning now, his brows arched downward and his eyes clouded with something that Yoongi will never be able to find a name for. 

Yoongi can't seem to look away. 

Taehyung stands, briskly making his way to the door and resting a hand on the doorknob before, he turns around once more. 

He clears his throat. "I'll have my men look for your friend in the morning. Namjoon can... he can track the call. See where he last was. He can't be moving that fast on his own. He shouldn't be too far from your dorm." He says, the look in his eyes timorous.

And Yoongi, Yoongi can't help but to smile at the new information. He doesn't even think before he stands, bounding over to Taehyung and stopping just shy of touching him. 

Yoongi looks up, meeting Taehyung's gaze and ignoring the slight flicker of something new. 

"Thank you Taehyung." 

Yoongi hugs him,  _tight,_ burying his face into his chest and holding him close before he lets go as swiftly as he can. He doesn't give Taehyung time to even register the touch, let alone respond with a hug of his own. 

Embarrassed at his own actions, Yoongi lets Taehyung go quickly, turning around to return to his bed and lie down, facing away from the man so that he can't see Yoongi's burning red cheeks. 

And it takes a moment before the door opens and shuts again. It's then that Yoongi knows he's alone but, he doesn't  _feel_ like he's alone. 

Because too many things have changed for it all to be the same anymore.

 

And Yoongi knows that things will never go back to the way they were before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So do we want to explore more POV? Or no? Let me know! 
> 
> Also, can you guys please leave me some comments? I would love to hear all of your thoughts and constructive criticism if you have it? I would also just love to hear about your fave songs from persona or your fave ships or even if you are just having a bad day, I am always here to chat!
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	8. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change happens. It's not what Yoongi expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took ages. I love you guys lmao. thanks for sticking around and to all my new readers, welcome!
> 
> enjoy, please let me know your thoughts!
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> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/vantaegiella)  
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> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)

 

# 변경 - Change

Things change, exactly as Yoongi thought they would.

Well, maybe not _exactly_ as he thought they would. He knew that things would be different now, the tempo between him and Taehyung now distorted and fringed with something more in depth and dangerous. They haven't spoken of that night. Since the day Taehyung made the promise to have Namjoon search for Hoseok. Even then, they don't look at each other for longer than a few seconds. They rarely speak, and even though Yoongi rarely leaves his room, Taehyung finds a way to escape the clutches of his presence, every time he comes around. 

Yoongi finds the house empty most nights. If he had known that it would be this barren in the house during the evening, Yoongi would have ventured down here a long time ago. Despite the trapped feeling that he had been stewing in before, he doesn't  _feel_ as trapped anymore. The prison bars that surround him have doubled in their length apart, offering him more breathing room, even if for a short amount of time. 

The sound of Yoongi's naked feet pattering against the steps echo into the night. He's just gotten to a place where he can eat somewhat comfortably, where the food doesn't weigh him down and make him feel unwell. He knows he isn't hungry but, a snack couldn't hurt him at this time of night. 

Not if no one is there to find out. 

Yoongi's eyes fall upon a bowl of fruit that rests upon the marble counter. He'll pass on that, opting for the cabinet above it that he has seen Jungkook open many times. He manages to graze the handle of it with the tips of his fingers, mentally cursing his short height as he swings it open. He plucks out a small bag of chips, smirking to himself as he commends his small victory.

Yoongi digs his nails into the plastic bag as he walks, wandering through the kitchen and back into the living room. The threading of the carpet tickles the bottom of Yoongi's feet, making him shiver at the sensation. He opens the bag and picks out a chip, the crunch of it in his mouth resounding and loud. He chews, mechanically, the salty snack tingling his taste buds and igniting a newfound hunger within him. He looks around, sensing no one else's presence.

He goes back upstairs, and rather than returning to his room, he decides to explore the rest of his new,  _home._

There are more paintings on this floor that Yoongi had never cared to notice before. The halls are wide and barren, clad in pretty red carpets and painted gold trims. The moonlight is blinding from the windowsill, the night sky dark and ominous. Yoongi breathes in deep as he looks around, his mind straying to that of Taehyung which, it always happens to do. 

It's not that he is bothered by the awkward waters that he has to tread on when in the presence of the drug lord. Yoongi can't help  _but_ to remember the way Taehyung touched him, how he cradled him in his arms. How he  _kissed_ him, with such fervor, such  _passion._ Yoongi's never been touched like that before. Not by any one of his exes. Not by Kyungsoo. Not by Hoseok. 

Not by anybody. 

Sometimes, when Yoongi is all alone, he reimagines it, again. Whether it be Taehyung or, someone who's touches are far more important than their face. Someone who cares for him,  _loves_ him unconditionally. Loves him without riches or his non-existent self-esteem.

Someone who will let him die, covered in lace. 

"Yoongi-ssi?" 

Yoongi looks up, his breath lodged in his throat, his cheeks flushed red. 

There at the end of the hall, lit from behind by the moon, is Jungkook. 

"What are you doing up?" He asks quietly. The boy wears a loose fitting white tee, one that hands low at the collar. His sweats are gray and soft looking, his unruly hair having the same effect. 

Yoongi takes another another chip and pops it into his mouth. "Wasn't tired." Yoongi mumbles around the salty crisp in his mouth. Jungkook's brows furrow before, he gives a single nod, looking back out at the window. Yoongi takes this as his cue to leave before, Jungkook's sudden words stop him.

"The Prince is different around you." 

Yoongi frowns, his heartbeat stuttering in his chest. 

"W-What?" Yoongi needs to hear that again, just so he knows he heard  _correctly._

Jungkook coughs a little, his body stilled, as if he knows he spoke too much. He speaks again anyway. 

"Prince Kim, he's different, with you." Jungkook says, his words uneven and the tone unnerved, like he's still trying to put the pieces together himself. "He wasn't like this with the others. With them he... he just looked,  _tired_ all the time. Unhappy. With you, he's not such an asshole." 

Yoongi's eyes widen at the sudden use of profanity. It's not like it was every out of the question, however, he never expected something like that to come out of, someone like Jungkook. 

But still, the mention of Taehyung having been involved with  _others_ makes Yoongi feel strange. An his stomach coils in a very unpleasant way, making his chest ache with anger, despondency. 

Dare he say it, envy. 

But that doesn't make any fucking sense. Why would Yoongi be jealous of those that Taehyung had been with before? The mere idea is absurd. He wonders how Taehyung treated these  _others,_ after the deed was done. If he held them after or, if he left. In guilt or in fear. 

Yoongi didn't like where this train of thought was leading him so, he did his best to bury them in the back of his mind, where the rest of his troubles and doubts lay. 

Jungkook speaks up again, pulling Yoongi out of his void of thoughts. "Hyung puts up this front, like, he acts angry, like he's mad at the world but, he's really not." 

Hearing Jungkook refer to the drug lord as  _hyung_ only makes Taehyung seem more real, more  _human._

It's dangerous territory for someone in Yoongi's position. 

So he dismisses the thought with a careless snort. "I find that hard to believe." 

Jungkook sighs, a fallen look on his face, one that makes his eyes droop and the corners of his lips turn downward. 

"He saved my life." Jungkook's voice is barely above a whisper, threaded with remembrance and, wistfulness. Maybe even regret. Yoongi can't tell, and he's more curious to let on so, he listens, hoping that Jungkook will continue. 

He does. 

 

 

Jungkook's father had been pooled in with the wrong people. 

Still, to say that Jungkook had been surprised when he found his mother and father dead, shot to death in their kitchenette, was an understatement. The people who came, they must not have known that he had a son, but Jungkook wished that they did. 

So that they could have waited for him to come home too. 

He was only sixteen, and he knew of no other home so he ran. He ran as fast as his feet could take him. 

And he never looked back.

He was just another kid on the street, no home to look after, no parents to call his own. He begged, borrowed, and stole until he was able to eat something, _anything_. Some nights, he wasn't so lucky. 

But Jungkook managed to weave himself into doing the dirty work. The fact that he had no ties to anything in the real world helped his cause greatly. He was a lookout, a dealer but most importantly, he was a runner. 

It wasn't supposed to happen, it was an accident, but somewhere along the way, Jungkook's partner in the deal had gotten a better offer, one that would have left Jungkook in the dust. 

He tried to play one of Kim's men, a trick. He would give less of the drug for higher the price, and it would all look like just right. 

Jungkook had no idea but, when the guns were raised, they were aimed at  _both_ of them, Yugyeom _and_ Jungkook. 

Jungkook could say that he was just incredibly convincing, but the tears gave him away. He cried and screamed. He thought he was ready for death but, when he stared at it right in the face, it terrified him. He had no idea that Taehyung was  _there_ but, he was. Upon his men taking so long to come back, he left the car and waltzed right on inside. 

Jungkook had heard of the man. Rumor had it that he was the devil incarnate, a true monster in the flesh. Jungkook could almost laugh, as the picture he had in mind was a fat old man with a curly mustache and round lenses perched upon his oily nose. 

Not this. 

Not someone who barely looked a year older than  _him._

It could have been the look in Jungkook's eyes, the tears or the boyish face but, Taehyung took pity on the boy. He took him in, raised him. 

But if you asked Taehyung why he did it, he would say that he simply didn't know why. 

He just did. 

 

Jungkook doesn't say anymore after that, and Yoongi is bothered by it. He doesn't know how to respond. He had no idea, he would have never even  _guessed._ To think, he had judged Jungkook the same as he did all the others. The second he laid eyes on the boy, he thought of riches and blood and cold-hearted killing. 

But then Yoongi thinks back to the betrayal. 

Jungkook's finger wasn't even on the  _trigger._ It was like he had been waiting for something, waiting for someone to make the wrong move so that he could act but, he didn't want to be the first one to shoot. Jungkook didn't want to kill unless someone was trying to kill  _him_ first. 

Or kill Taehyung. 

He speaks of the man like he's some god among men, blessing them with his presence as he treads the earth with a lust for danger and greed. Yoongi should be sickened by it, and he would have been, if he had known the man as Prince Kim for forever more. 

But he knows him as Taehyung now. 

And Prince Kim and Taehyung are two _very_ different people. 

So when Jungkook's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning, Yoongi finds it far more endearing than he should. He tries not to question it because he knows he'll be afraid of the answer, but he thinks that he should probably say something before Jungkook assumes that he just doesn't care. 

But why he cares about what Jungkook thinks of him, is again, beyond him. 

"I'm... sorry." Yoongi mumbles, sheepishly. It isn't his proudest moment, he'll admit that but, it feels as right as anything else.

And here Yoongi was, thinking that _his_ life was complete and utter shit. 

Jungkook turns to him, his face blank and unreadable before finally, a light in the dark. Jungkook smiles, no,  _beams._ His teeth are oblong and white and gleaming beneath a cacophony of stars. His teeth are that of a bunny rabbit's, all big and bright. His eyes even crinkle, and if Yoongi had met the boy before all this, he would have never imagined the life that he lived was a sad one. 

"Don't be sorry for me. I'm happy here. Hyung takes care of me. They all do." Jungkook says, his gaze returning to the burning bursts of light against the deep blue canvas up above. Yoongi thinks its best to leave now, to let Jungkook wonder and ponder the existence of life and humans or, whatever the hell he was thinking about before Yoongi caught him. 

Yoongi turns, eating another chip and walking towards his room when suddenly, Jungkook speaks one last time.

"I wasn't tired either, you know. 'Was gonna watch a movie in the living room. You can come if you want." 

 

 

The morning was cool and wet. Yoongi didn't know when it had started raining. He was too caught up in the throws of letting his guard down, enjoying the rom com that Jungkook had put on. Who knew the slinging gun man had a thing for comedies. 

But Yoongi opens his eyes to find that he's curled up on the couch, surrounded by men in suits who, thankfully pay him no mind. Jungkook is no longer beside him, and despite the cold feeling that has settled deep in his bones, there is a cover on top of him that wasn't there before. 

Yoongi sits up, rubbing at his eyes and looking around the room. He's surprised that no one woke him up or, kicked him out, telling him to go back to his room. 

He sees Seokjin and Jimin, even Namjoon who, is talking to Taehyung. 

Taehyung's lips are pressed tight into a thin line, a calculating look in his eyes. His brows are knitted and he doesn't seem to blink as he listens to whatever Namjoon is telling him. The man is leaning into the counter, his elbows digging into the marble. He doesn't seem upset but what he is being told, nor does he seem fazed. Upon Yoongi's movement however, Taehyung looks up, having seen the slight motion out of the corner of his eye. 

Yoongi blinks, taking in the way that Taehyung eyes him with something unexplored. It doesn't feel normal but, it  _does_ feel natural. Yoongi pulls the covers around him, again, feeling naked, as he is out in the open, wearing a simple night shirt with sweats and a mop of disorderly black hair. He fights to keep eye contact, remain in control as Taehyung approaches him, but the color of his pale cheeks betray him as they burn a bright red, flushed with sugar and blood as a man so, so pleasing to the eye, comes for him.

Astoundingly, Taehyung is the first to look away. Still, he remains standing, conscious of the fact that his men are around. He can't be at ease here, despite this being his home,  _his_ men. 

Taehyung places his hands in his pockets. "We found your friend's whereabouts. He's staying in a motel, not too far from your dorm. We will set out today to find him." 

At this, Yoongi smiles, gums and all. He can't help the slight giggle that trickles from his lips because Hoseok is alive. 

He's  _alive._

"Thank you Taehyung.  _Thank you."_ Yoongi says, gripping the covers so tight that his knuckles burn white. Something in Taehyung's expression flickers, like he's come to some sort of, realization or epiphany, but like always, it disappears in the blink of an eye. Too short for Yoongi to find out what it means. 

One of Taehyung's men looks at them, his face contorting into something similar to a scowl at the sound Yoongi calling he drug lord by his first name. Taehyung sees it though, and returns the man's glower with a deadly look of his own. 

One that should never be questioned. 

The man looks away quickly but, not before his eyes glister with panic and fear. Yoongi bites back a smile. 

Taehyung turns to look back at Yoongi, his eyes softening but, not enough for Yoongi to be reassured. 

"Don't forget your promise to me. If he knows  _anything―"_

"Then you kill him, and me too. I know just,  _please,_ find him." Yoongi's voice is loud, louder than it should be if the curious glances he gets is anything to go by but, he can't bring himself to care. 

He's going to see Hoseok again. 

And he knows that Hoseok isn't a liar. He wouldn't have let Yoongi go that easily if he knew who's been stealing from both him  _and_ Taehyung. Hoseok is a fighter, always has, and always  _will_ be. And even if he could never love Yoongi the way that  _Yoongi_ wanted him to, he still loves him. With his full heart and soul. 

Taehyung swallows, steeling his jaw and taking in a deep breath. He nods.

 

 

And Taehyung and his men venture out into the night. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Taehyung had grown up not knowing what his father was capable of.

 

He knew nothing of the family business. He knew that sometimes, his father would come home, smelling different than before and splattered with red paint. He looked happy though, very happy. And when his father was happy, Taehyung was happy.

But sometimes, Taehyung's father got angry. Sometimes, he got so angry that his mother's arms would be splattered with purple, speckled with indigo and violet. Purple had always been Taehyung's favorite color, but across his mother's skin? 

He hated it. 

Taehyung was ten years old when he found out that the paint on his father's hands came from people, rather than art. 

His father had called him to his office, told him that he had something important to show him. Taehyung was excited. It was rare that his father spoke to him in soft tones, in bright, brilliant yellow colors.

His father wanted to  _show him something._

And no matter what it was, Taehyung would make his father proud. 

One of Taehyung's men, Jonghyun, the same man who sometimes played with him when his mother was too busy to, had a sad look in his eyes. Taehyung tried to lift his spirits, holding his hand tight and swinging it between them with all his might. He remembers Jonghyun smiling with, a tear, falling down his cheek. Taehyung couldn't understand why back then. He had never seen someone smile while crying. It didn't make sense to him back then. 

It does now. 

Jonghyun had kissed his hair, lowering himself to his knees so that he could look Taehyung in the eye. 

He smiles. 

_"No matter what you see in there, you can't cry, okay tiger? You stay strong for uncle Jongie and you don't cry, understand?"_

Taehyung nods without understanding, the teeth that he has all bright and glistening. 

_"Okay."_

Jonghyun ushers him inside. That's the last of him that Taehyung sees for a while. 

His father sits at his desk, three men standing before him with their hands tied behind their back. Taehyung knows this look. His father is angry,  _very_ angry. Angry enough to paint skin purple and blue and black. 

 _"Ah, Taehyungie, come here."_ His father beckons with a smile that Taehyung has never seen before. His voice isn't just yellow. It's a pretty pink, one that makes Taehyung giggle and run towards his father, hopping onto his lap and hugging him tight around the neck. His father pats his back with a hearty laugh, cupping his cheeks and turning his face towards the three men. 

They look sad.

_"You see these men Taehyungie? These, are very bad men, men who have taken something that does not belong to them. Do you know what happens when someone takes something that doesn't belong to them?"_

Taehyung's brows furrow, his smile now gone and replaced with a pout. He blinks at the three men, taking in their drabby, sorrowful appearance. He doesn't understand. What should he say? He knows that if someone were to take his toys, he would be very upset. 

 _"I'd be sad."_ Taehyung answers because, angry has never been in his vocabulary. 

His father doesn't seem to appeased. 

 _"Sad is a strong word Taehyungie, but not strong enough. How would you feel if I took all of your toys, and gave them away, or rather, burned them, all to ash. How would you feel?"_ His father asks but, strangely enough, he isn't looking at Taehyung. 

He's looking at the sad men. 

Taehyung gulps, his father's hold on him no longer safe. No longer comforting. 

 _"I... I would be angry. Very angry."_ Taehyung whispers. 

His father is pleased. 

_"Exactly."_

And with that, his father raises two fingers, flicking them twice. 

Each man is shot in the head, one by one. Their brains splatter all over the wall, all over his father's desk. Each shot that pierces the air, is punctuating with a scream from Taehyung. He had failed Jonghyun. He had failed him because he cried.

Taehyung had no idea. 

 

 

He had no idea that humans have so much _red_ inside of them. 

 

* * *

 

 

Once Yoongi finds out how to work the fucking expensive ass television, he settles on watching all the shows he's forgotten to catch up on since he forgot to pay the cable bill all those months ago. He's alone, with the exception of his own worries that have nestled their way inside his ribs. 

Taehyung and the others have been gone for way longer than they should be. If Yoongi remembers correctly, him and Hoseok's dorm is far from the high rise, but not  _that_ far. They should be back by now. 

 _Taehyung_ should be back by now. 

Yoongi doesn't know why he's so anxious about this. He's worried about the safety of his friend, that much is a given but, why this space away from Taehyung has his lungs so strained, unable to take in the maximum amount of air that they should, is a mystery to him. Why he starts to worry about Hoseok and then, his thoughts deviate from his friend to, his captor, Yoongi has no fucking clue. And he wishes he knew, trust and believe, he does. Taehyung's absence should have sparked a newfound freedom, a newfound _hope_ in the distance, but it doesn't. 

But instead, things feel unclear. 

The door to the suite opens, wood splintering wood as it takes the brunt of such force. Yoongi startles out of his skin, eyes ahead as in walks some of Taehyung's men. 

They all look  _terrible._

Namjoon's hands are trembling at his sides, his hands gray and dumped with soot. His eyes look crazed, his hair a mess, as if he's combed through it with his hands a thousand times over. 

Jungkook's face looks pale, his cheeks flushed green with nausea as he holds onto someone. He looks unharmed physically but, mentally, Yoongi doesn't know.

Jimin is shaking all over, his face wet and speckled with black. His phone is by his ear, his voice cracked with panic and hysteria. He calls out the name  _Jin,_ over and over and _over_ again. 

And then there's Taehyung.

He's leaning onto someone that Yoongi doesn't care to recognize, his eyes screwed tight, his face twisted in pure agony. He clutching at his side, his toes digging into the ground as he surrenders all of his weight to the man that carries him. 

On his white blouse, red. Red  _everywhere._ Red staining his clothes, his  _face._

His arm. 

And somewhere, amidst the rubble of broken humans and ash, he sees the light, the last glimmer of _hope_ that Yoongi had been praying for. 

Hoseok is there, unharmed but, frightened. 

And for some strange reason, Yoongi can't seem to care too much about Hoseok's well-being. 

 

 

All he can think about is Taehyung. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you guys! ill try not to take too long next time but, bear with me! life is hard as you know. see you next time!
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/vantaegiella)  
> [my tumblr♡](http://musicaltheatrecvrls.tumblr.com/)  
> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that was kind of much I know, and also fairly rushed due to everything crazy going on in my life. Expect the next chapter very, very soon. I plan to have it up in a few days. 
> 
> I would appreciate it if you left me some thoughts and I will see you next time! Please check out my other fics if you like! Lots of Taegi gud guds.  
> ↓↓↓↓↓↓
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter♡](https://twitter.com/VANTAEGIELLA)  
> [my tumblr♡](http://musicaltheatrecvrls.tumblr.com/)  
> [my cc♡](https://curiouscat.me/BTSPrincess)


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